Emily stared at the dead phone in her hand. Isabelle's warning still echoed in her mind.
Then the sound of splintering wood shattered the tense silence.
The front door exploded inward, locks tearing free as if they were paper. Emily screamed. Alexander shoved her behind him instantly, his body a shield. Uncle Li moved too—quick, precise, faster than his age should allow—as he slid to Alexander's flank.
But it wasn't Madame Zhou's silent guards who stormed the apartment.
It was men in dark suits and tactical vests. They moved with military precision. The lead man raised a badge high enough for everyone to see—a gold-and-blue shield stamped with one word in bold letters: INTERPOL.
"Nobody move!" the lead man barked, his English crisp with a British accent. "Hands where I can see them."
