Chapter 82 Save Your Woman

Liam’s breath hitched. His eyes locked onto the glowing red interface in front of him, the bold words flashing ominously across the screen.

[Your woman is in danger. Save her.]

His heart slammed against his ribs.

For a second, his mind went completely blank, his body frozen in place as if his entire world had suddenly narrowed down to those seven words.

The last time he saw this message...

Ann was in trouble.

A deep, dark sense of dread twisted in his gut. His pulse roared in his ears as he shot up from his chair, nearly knocking it over in his haste.

His hands reached for his jacket, yanking it over his shoulders as his system’s interface shifted, the flashing red turning into a detailed map.

At the center of it, a single black dot pulsed ominously—Ann’s location.

Liam’s jaw clenched. "Shit."

His fists tightened as he raced out of the house, his entire being thrumming with urgency.

****

A Few Hours Earlier...

Ann stood outside the house, her phone in her hands as she typed out a quick message to Liam.

[Hey, I’m heading out for the day. Won’t be back till night. Don’t miss me too much.]

She hit send.

Today was supposed to be a fun day.

A day to relax.

A day to spend with her friends, catch up and have a good meal.

She hailed a taxi, sliding into the backseat with ease. The driver, an older man with a gruff face, barely spared her a glance as he asked for her destination.

She told him.

And then, with a quiet hum, the car pulled away from the curb, merging into the steady flow of traffic.

Ann leaned back, exhaling softly.

After everything that had happened lately, a normal day out felt refreshing.

But what she didn’t know—what she couldn’t know—was that today would be anything but normal.

The taxi ride was smooth. Uneventful.

Within minutes, they arrived at her destination—a well-known restaurant in the city.

She paid the driver, stepping out onto the pavement.

Her eyes lifted to the familiar building in front of her, a small smile playing on her lips.

But just as she was about to take a step forward—

SCREECH!

A black van came to a sudden, violent stop right in front of her.

Ann barely had time to react.

The van doors slid open.

Hands grabbed her.

She let out a sharp gasp, twisting her body as she fought back immediately, throwing an elbow toward her attacker’s ribs.

But before she could fully retaliate, a rough hand clamped down over her mouth.

A thick black sack was yanked over her head, plunging her into darkness.

Ann thrashed wildly, her muffled screams lost beneath the fabric.

Her heart hammered in her chest.

Her arms were pinned against her sides, her body restrained as she was dragged into the vehicle.

The moment she was inside, the doors slammed shut.

The van sped off.

She kicked. She squirmed. She tried to scream.

But nothing.

The grip on her was unrelenting.

Her breathing was shallow, her lungs tightening as panic surged through her veins.

Where were they taking her?

Who were they?

And more importantly—why?

The ride felt like it lasted an eternity.

Every bump, every sharp turn sent waves of dread crashing through her.

And then—

The van jerked to a stop.

Her stomach lurched.

Rough hands grabbed her once again, pulling her out of the vehicle.

She stumbled, her footing unsteady as she was shoved forward.

The sack remained over her head, trapping her in suffocating darkness.

She could hear voices—low murmurs, footsteps crunching against the ground—but she couldn’t see anything.

She couldn’t tell where she was.

The only thing she could do—was run.

Ann didn’t hesitate.

The moment she felt their grip loosen, she bolted.

Her legs moved on instinct, her body pushing forward as fast as it could.

She didn’t know where she was going.

She didn’t know if there was an exit, a way out, a place to hide—

She just knew she had to run.

Her breath came in short, sharp bursts.

Her heartbeat pounded in her ears.

Her body screamed at her to keep going.

But then—

BANG!

She slammed into something.

A car.

Ann’s body collided against the hood before she tumbled backward, hitting the pavement hard.

Pain exploded through her.

She groaned, her body aching as she tried to push herself up—

But before she could, she felt hands grab her again.

Then—

The black sack was ripped off her head.

Ann gasped, her eyes squeezing shut as sunlight blinded her.

For a moment, she couldn’t see anything.

Just harsh, blinding white.

Her hands—still bound—came up instinctively to shield herself from the overwhelming brightness.

She blinked rapidly, her vision slowly adjusting.

And then, finally—

She saw them.

Two men.

Two familiar men.

Her blood ran cold.

A smirk stretched across the first man’s lips.

The second man let out a low chuckle.

Ann’s stomach twisted painfully.

She knew them.

She recognized them.

They were from the group of five men that had attacked Liam at his own home.

Liam had killed three.

But two he spared.

And now—

They were standing right in front of her.

Ann’s breath hitched.

Her heart pounded.

And deep in her gut—she knew.

She was in serious trouble.

Her breath came in quick, shallow gasps as she sat there on the rough, uneven ground, her hands still bound, her heart hammering painfully against her ribs.

As she looked around, she realized just how deep in trouble she was.

The area was completely secluded.

Rusting, wrecked cars were scattered around, their metal frames twisted and abandoned, as if this place had once been used as a junkyard but had long since been forgotten.

The air was thick with the stench of oil, rust, and something else—something rotting.

Ann swallowed hard, instinctively shifting back on the ground, putting as much distance as she could between herself and the two men standing in front of her.

But it wasn’t enough.

One of them—the one with a cruel smirk on his lips—stepped forward.

His eyes glinted with something dark, something that made Ann’s stomach churn with unease.

Then, he bent down to her level, his breath brushing against her face as he chuckled lowly.

"Well, well, well... who do we have here?"

His voice was thick with amusement, as if he were enjoying every second of this.

Ann’s body went rigid.

She didn’t answer.

She knew it wouldn’t matter what she said.

The man’s smirk only widened.

Then—

A laugh.

A slow, menacing chuckle that sent a shiver down her spine.

His hand moved to his boot, and before Ann could process what was happening, she saw the glint of metal.

A knife.

Her blood turned to ice.

She tried to move back further, but there was nowhere left to go.

The man—Dean—held the knife loosely in his grip, twirling it between his fingers, playing with it as if he were testing its weight.

And then—

He slashed forward.

Ann squeezed her eyes shut, her entire body tensing as she braced herself for the worst.

Her breath caught in her throat.

But—

Nothing.

No pain.

No warmth of blood spilling from a wound.

She hesitantly opened her eyes.

And that’s when she saw it.

The knife hadn’t touched her flesh.

Instead—

The top button of her shirt had been sliced clean off.

It dangled loosely for a second before falling away, revealing a slight part of her chest.

Ann’s eyes widened in horror.

Her breath hitched as a wave of pure humiliation and anger crashed over her.

Dean let out a mocking whistle, tilting his head as he eyed her lazily.

"That was a close one, huh?" he taunted, twirling the knife once again.

Ann’s hands clenched into tight fists. Bastard.

Before Dean could take things further, however—

A firm grip clamped down on his shoulder.

Rick—the other man—yanked him back.

"What the hell are you doing?" Rick snapped, his brows furrowed in frustration.

Dean turned, annoyance flashing across his face.

"What?" he asked casually. "I was just having some fun."

Rick’s grip tightened.

"That’s not what we’re here for."

Dean rolled his eyes, brushing Rick’s hand off his shoulder with an exaggerated sigh.

"Relax, man," he said, poking Rick’s arm playfully. "It’s not like I was actually gonna do anything."

Rick’s expression remained hard.

His eyes flickered toward Ann, who was now staring at them both with a wary, calculating gaze.

"Are you sure we’re doing the right thing?" Rick muttered, lowering his voice slightly. "Boss was clear—we were supposed to leave the boy alone as long as he didn’t overstep his boundaries again."

Dean scoffed.

"Man, boss already approved of our plan."

Rick frowned.

Dean smirked.

"We send him the location of this place in an hour," he said, twirling his knife once more. "And when he comes rushing in like the idiot he is, we hijack him with the guns and end him. Simple."

Ann’s breath stilled.

Her pulse roared in her ears.

They were talking about Liam.

They were planning to lure him here and kill him.

She bit her lip, fighting the panic that threatened to consume her.

No.

He couldn’t come.

She couldn’t let him come.

She knew Liam.

She knew that the moment he found out she was missing, he wouldn’t hesitate.

He would come for her.

And these bastards knew that, too.

That was why they had taken her in the first place.

She lowered her gaze to the ground, trying to control the raging storm inside her.

Please, Liam... she prayed silently. Don’t come.

But deep down—

She knew it was already too late.