Damian's heart raced as he pulled up in front of Amara's house. He barely remembered how he got there; the entire drive was a blur of fear and determination. The moment he pushed open the front door, his breath caught.
There, in the living room, sat his children and Mia. Their faces were pale with worry, their small bodies curled up together like they were clinging to each other for safety. The second they saw him, the kids shot up from the couch and ran into his arms.
"Daddy!" they cried in unison, their little voices trembling.
He bent low and hugged them tightly, forcing himself to remain calm even though his entire world was on fire inside.
"Daddy, we can't find Mommy," his eldest whispered, tears rolling down her cheeks. "Please, promise she'll be okay."
Damian swallowed hard, his chest tightening. "You'll see her soon. I promise," he said, his voice gentle yet firm.
Mia quickly stepped forward. "Let me take them upstairs so they can rest," she offered, her eyes full of quiet strength despite her own fear.
"Yes," Damian agreed, forcing a small smile at his children. "Go with Mia now. Sleep, my babies. Good night." He kissed their foreheads one by one.
"Good night, Daddy," they murmured.
Mia took their hands and gently led them upstairs. Damian watched them go, his jaw clenched, then ran a hand down his face. He could not let them down-not tonight.
Moments later, Mia returned. Her eyes darted to his, anxious and questioning. "How are we going to find her now, Damian?" she asked in a hushed tone.
He exhaled slowly, his gaze hardening. "Just wait. The police are already on their way. I've tracked Amara's location, and I'm heading there myself. Once the police arrive, give them the location I've shared with you."
Mia nodded firmly, though her lips trembled. "Okay. Just... bring her home."
"I will."
With that, Damian stormed outside, where his men were already waiting. They fell into formation without a word as he slid into his car. The engines roared, and the small convoy sped off into the night, headlights piercing through the darkness.
---
Meanwhile, at a secluded property far from prying eyes, Nathaniel paced the dimly lit room. His face was a mask of tension as he checked on his prisoners. Amara lay unconscious on the floor, her body weak and still, while in another corner sat Clara-his estranged wife-eyes wide with fear as she realized the gravity of her situation.
Nathaniel's men had tracked Clara down earlier and dragged her into the same place where Amara was being held. Now, both women were trapped under his control.
Clara's heart pounded as she turned her head and saw Amara's lifeless body. "Amara..." she whispered shakily, inching closer. She shook her gently, but Amara didn't stir. Panic flared in her chest.
"Wake up, please. Don't leave me alone here," Clara begged, but there was no response.
Nathaniel's head snapped up when he suddenly heard a notification ping from a phone. He frowned and dug into his pocket, but it wasn't his.
"Whose phone is that?" he barked, scanning the room.
His men exchanged glances before one of them bent down and picked up a cracked phone from the floor.
"It's hers, boss," the man said, holding up Amara's device.
"Break it," Nathaniel ordered coldly. The man smashed the phone against the wall until it splintered into pieces.
Nathaniel ran a hand through his hair and asked sharply, "Are the police still around?"
One of his guards peeked through the window. "No, boss. I think they left."
"Good," Nathaniel muttered. A dangerous smirk touched his lips as he turned toward the staircase. "Then it's time we move-"
BANG!
A thunderous crash echoed through the building. The front door had been kicked open.
"Who's there?" Nathaniel snarled, whirling around.
Through the broken doorway stepped Damian, tall and imposing, his eyes burning with fury. His presence filled the room like a storm, and for the first time, Nathaniel's confidence faltered.
"Damian," Nathaniel hissed.
"You've made your last mistake," Damian growled.
Nathaniel quickly gestured to his men. "Get him!"
A handful of guards rushed forward, charging at Damian. But within moments, they were on the ground. Damian's fists flew with lethal precision, every movement sharp and brutal. One by one, they crumpled at his feet, groaning and unable to rise.
Now only Nathaniel stood in his path.
Damian's eyes locked on him. "Where is she?"
Nathaniel sneered, refusing to answer. Instead, he bolted for the stairs.
"Coward!" Damian spat, chasing after him.
The two men clashed upstairs, the narrow hallway echoing with the sound of their fight. Fists collided with flesh, grunts filled the air, and the walls trembled with every impact. Nathaniel fought with desperation, but Damian's rage made him unstoppable.
At one point, Nathaniel shoved hard, trying to push Damian backward-toward the open staircase where a fall could be fatal. But Damian twisted at the last second, flipping their positions. With a powerful move, he sent Nathaniel tumbling over the railing.
"Ahhh!" Nathaniel crashed onto the ground floor below with a sickening thud.
Damian wasted no time. Guided by the tracker on his phone, he moved quickly down the hall until he reached a locked door. He slammed his shoulder into it, and the door burst open.
Inside, his heart shattered.
"Amara," he breathed, rushing to her side. She was unconscious, her body limp, but still breathing. Relief and fear tangled in his chest.
Clara scrambled toward him, tears streaming down her face. "Please, save me too. Don't leave me here," she begged, her voice breaking.
Damian didn't spare her a glare of blame. He simply scooped Amara into his arms and barked, "Let's go!" Clara followed close behind, terrified but grateful.
As they descended the stairs, the hairs on Damian's neck prickled. Something was wrong. Nathaniel's body wasn't where he had fallen.
"Damn it," Damian cursed under his breath.
Suddenly, a gunshot split the air.
"Ahhh!" Clara screamed as she threw herself forward, taking the bullets that had been aimed at Damian. She staggered, blood blooming across her clothes as she was hit three... four times.
Damian spun around to see Nathaniel, alive, aiming his gun again.
"No!" Clara gasped, collapsing to the ground.
At that exact moment, the front door burst open once more. Police officers stormed in, their weapons raised. Gunfire erupted-short, sharp bursts. Nathaniel screamed as bullets tore into his leg, forcing him down.
"Drop the weapon!" an officer shouted.
Nathaniel's gun clattered to the floor. He clutched his bleeding leg, writhing in pain, until the police swarmed him, snapping cold metal handcuffs around his wrists.
Damian tightened his hold on Amara and glanced down at Clara, who was barely conscious, her breaths shallow.
"Hang on," he muttered, his jaw tight.
"Ambulance! Now!" an officer called out.
Within minutes, both women were being rushed to the hospital. Damian never left Amara's side, his hand gripping hers as if letting go would mean losing her forever.