The room was thick with tension, the kind that wrapped around your chest and squeezed until breathing became a conscious task. Logan wiped the sweat off his brow with the back of his trembling hand, his gaze fixed on the gaunt figure of his father lying motionless on the hospital bed. The once-proud man, a pillar of strength, was now reduced to a barely breathing corpse-like shell. No antidote known to modern medicine could fix this. No science could reverse what had slithered its way deep into his father's bloodstream. Logan leaned in and pressed his ear against his father’s chest. Beneath the faint heartbeat, he heard something else: a low squelching gurgle that didn’t belong. His hands tightened into fists.“I need a bowl,” he said abruptly, his voice sharp and commanding.The closest servant, a young man hovering anxiously near the door, looked startled. “Sir?”“A bowl. Now. From the restroom. Clean and deep enough to hold liquid.”The servant didn’t wait for further clarif

The phone trembled in Logan’s hand, the words on the other end of the call echoing in his mind like a death knell. “We’re sorry… Chloe didn’t make it.”“What?” Logan's voice cracked. “What do you mean? Who—hello?” The line went dead.For a second, Logan stood frozen outside the Sullivan mansion, the wind whipping around him as if mocking his stillness. Then, without a second thought, he darted into his car and sped toward the hospital.His mind raced faster than the engine. No. This can’t be. She was improving. I saw her color return just yesterday. This has to be a mistake. Someone’s playing a cruel joke.But as he screeched into the hospital’s parking lot and sprinted through the front doors, the panic inside him began to outweigh the denial.He burst into Chloe’s ward, only to halt in place.The bed was empty.The sheets were rumpled, the pillow stained with dried tears. And beside it, kneeling and sobbing uncontrollably, was Chloe’s nanny.Logan’s heart dropped.“Where is she?” he

The nurse’s voice was shaky as she described the vehicle. “It was… dark blue, maybe black. An SUV, I think. The license plate was partially covered, but I remember the last three digits—2F7. The man… he was tall, maybe in his late forties, wore a long coat, and he didn’t speak much. He just showed the papers, and the hospital staff let him take her.”Logan’s jaw clenched. That vague description wouldn’t be enough to trace the vehicle through normal channels, but Logan wasn’t relying on normal channels.“I’ll handle it,” he muttered darkly.He stepped aside, pulled out his phone, and dialed a secure number. “Get over here. Now,” he said before ending the call.Charlotte stood beside him, her eyes swollen from crying. “Logan… what if she’s alive?” she whispered, her voice raw with hope and dread.Logan didn’t answer. He couldn’t afford to hope yet—not until he had proof.Fifteen minutes later, a tall, broad-shouldered man in a plain black jacket walked into the hospital corridor. He was

Logan’s steps crunched on the gravel as he closed the gap between himself and Kent who was standing on the front porch.Kent’s eyes narrowed in suspicion with his voice rising to a shout. “What the hell are you doing in my house, Logan? And what did you just do to my dogs? They’ve never shut up for anyone!”Logan didn’t answer his question. His tone was ice. “I need to see my daughter, Chloe. You’d better produce her at once!”Kent’s expression hardened into defiance. “Look, fool. I don’t have your brat! You’ve got some nerve showing up here—”Logan took another step forward. “I’m not playing games. You have her. Bring her to me now.”Kent moved to block the door, squaring his shoulders. “You’re not stepping a foot inside my house.”Logan’s lips curled into something between a smirk and a snarl. “You think you can stop me?”Kent lunged forward to shove him back, but Logan was ready. In one swift motion, Logan sidestepped, grabbed Kent’s wrist, and twisted it behind his back.

The men moved toward Logan, their heavy boots thudding against the floor like war drums. Their eyes glinted with malicious intent, and their hands curled into fists as they prepared to pry Chloe from his arms. One of them, a broad-shouldered brute with a scar across his jaw, stepped forward first.“Give us the girl,” he snarled, his voice low and threatening.Logan’s grip on Chloe tightened. She hung limp in his arms, her pale face framed by strands of hair matted to her cheeks. He could feel the faint warmth of her body, but her stillness gnawed at his soul. These men would not touch her—not while he was still breathing.The first man lunged. Logan shifted his weight, his eyes narrowing. In one swift movement, he twisted aside, using the attacker’s own momentum to throw him headlong into the wall. The sickening thud was followed by a groan as the man crumpled to the ground.The second man didn’t hesitate. He swung a heavy punch aimed at Logan’s ribs, but Logan ducked and drove h