Chapter 4 - The Lion Unleashed
The air in the dining room turned to liquid ice.
Adrian didn't yell. He didn't smash the furniture. Instead, his entire aura transformed in a fraction of a second. The gentle, warm man who had been touching Mara’s face vanished, replaced by the lethal, terrifying underworld boss whose name struck fear into the hearts of federal agents and cartel leaders alike.
“Where did they take him?” Adrian asked, his voice low, measured, and terrifyingly calm.
“An abandoned grain silo at the old port near Lake Michigan,” Marcus reported. “Carver left a message. He wants you there in one hour—alone. He says if you don't sign over the northern freight routes and forgive his four-million-dollar debt... he’ll drop the kid into the freezing lake.”
Mara let out a choked gasp, her knees buckling. “Oh God... Owen... no, no!”
Adrian caught her before she hit the floor. He lifted her into his arms and set her gently back on the leather chair. He crouched in front of her, taking both of her cold, shaking hands in his.
“Look at me, Mara,” Adrian commanded softly.
Mara looked into his gray eyes, which were now burning with an unholy, lethal fire.
“I am going to get your brother back,” Adrian vowed, every word heavy with absolute certainty. “He will not be touched. He will not be harmed. I swear this to you on my life.”
“I’m coming with you,” Mara begged, tears streaming down her face, gripping his lapels. “Please, Adrian! He’s just a boy, he’s terrified—”
“You are staying here under heavy guard,” Adrian said firmly. He stood up and pulled a heavy 9mm handgun from a hidden drawer beneath the dining table, checking the chamber with practiced, deadly efficiency. “Marcus! Lock down the estate. Nobody leaves. Nobody enters.”
“Understood, Boss!”
Adrian turned back to Mara one last time. He leaned down and pressed a hard, possessive kiss against her lips—a promise signed in fire and iron.
“Wait for me,” he whispered against her mouth.
Then he turned and walked out of the room, his long coat billowing behind him like the wings of a dark angel.
Thirty minutes later, three black armored SUVs tore through the blinding snowstorm toward the abandoned industrial docks of Lake Michigan.
Inside the lead vehicle, Adrian sat in the back, pulling dark leather gloves onto his hands. Beside him sat twenty of his most elite, silent operatives, armed with suppressed assault rifles.
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Leonard Carver thought he was playing a game of leverage. He thought he was dealing with a businessman who had gone soft.
He was about to learn that Adrian Vale had not gone soft. He had simply found something worth destroying the world for.
