In the corridor, Mateo heard it first.No voices, no hurried footsteps.Just the specific, rhythmic pattern of two men who weren't rushing but weren't browsing, either, moving through the back passage with the directional certainty of people who knew exactly where they were going.He keyed his radio. "Bren. They’re deeper than the corridor. They found the inner passage."Bren’s voice came back instantly. "How many exits?""Two. The fire door at the rear and the office itself.""Take the fire door. I’ll take two men through the office side." A sharp beat. "Do not engage alone. Copy?"Mateo was already moving. "Understood."*****The owner’s phone buzzed before he could reach for it.He looked at the screen, then at Zarek.The temperature in the room plummeted."There’s an alert," the owner said slowly, his eyes tracking the text. "Two individuals entered through the back passage." He looked up, his gaze hardening. "Individuals using stolen membership cards."Shaw exhaled a short, qui

Papers scattered. The young debtor scrambled out of his chair with a strangled sound. Mateo hit the desk and came off it fast and oriented.Zarek revised his estimate upward.Across the room, Shaw and Bren had found each other’s level. Bren had stopped trying to overpower and started grinding, moving Shaw around the room with the patience of a man who understood attrition.The exchanges were short and brutal, neither pulling ahead.Bren caught Shaw with a short right that landed higher than Shaw managed to deflect. Shaw felt it in his back teeth and took two involuntary steps back."That one counted," Shaw said.Bren pressed forward. Shaw let him come, pivoted outside the rush, and used Bren’s momentum to introduce him to the wall, pinning him there with a forearm across his shoulders."Stay down," Shaw said. "I’m asking. Not telling."Bren pushed back. Shaw increased the pressure.Across the room, Zarek and Mateo had stopped trading and started reading, two people moving with the

"I don't know," the owner whispered.The man’s voice had finally lost its shape. The practiced smoothness, the careful construction of a persona honed over thirty years of deception, had evaporated. What remained was raw, unpolished sound, erratic and thinning."I genuinely... I don't know where he is."Zarek didn’t blink. He simply watched the man’s pulse thrumming frantically in his neck."The last time I saw him was—""Stop lying to me."The command hit the air differently than anything Zarek had said before. He hadn't raised his volume, yet the words felt as though they were vibrating from a deeper, older place, a vault that had been sealed for a decade and was now being forced open. The sound filled the gym, finding the exact frequency of the corrugated walls until the entire structure seemed to hum with his restraint.The owner flinched, a genuine, reflexive jerk of the shoulders he couldn't hide. "I'm not—""Stop." Zarek’s grip tightened, his glove creaking against the man’

Zarek walked back to the center of the room and sat on the edge of the desk, crossing one heavy boot over the other. He watched the man with a detached, chilling patience."You're shivering, Vargus. That’s the adrenaline leaving. What comes next is the realization that I haven't actually asked my real questions yet."Vargus flinched. "I told you! I sold the contract! I gave you the name!""You gave me a category," Zarek countered. "A collector is a broad term in a world of scavengers. I want specifics. I want the date of the transaction.”“I want the name on the wire transfer. I want to know exactly what condition my brother was in when you handed him over like a piece of meat."Zarek leaned forward, his eyes locking onto Vargus’s with a grip tighter than any hand on a collar. "Are you ready to speak properly now? Or do we need to find out if you have any more pride left to lose?"Vargus looked at the fire, then at the stain on his trousers. The shame was total."I have the files,"

Vargus didn’t let the rejection stop him. He leaned in, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper."The scouts said one of them is different. High-born blood, maybe. Or just a savage who hasn't realized he's lost yet. I think he might actually be the unique thing you’re looking for."Tatiana’s emerald eyes shifted. She didn't look excited, but the heavy stillness of her gaze changed. It was the look of a person deciding whether or not to watch a building burn. She stood slowly, her crimson dress flowing around her like a pool of blood."Fine," she said, her voice a cool breeze. "But if he’s just another brawler with a loud mouth and a weak chin, Vargus, I’m leaving. And I won't be coming back for the tea."Vargus beamed like a man who had just won the lottery. "He won't disappoint you. I promise."He led the way out, his heart racing with the need to impress her, completely unaware that in the present, the man standing in his office was the very nightmare he helped create that