“You want me to come alone? Fine. I’ll be there.”Leo spoke the words quietly into his phone as he stood in the empty locker room after his last class. His voice was steady, but his injured ankle throbbed under the bandage. He changed into a plain gray hoodie and jeans, the same clothes any other 300-level student would wear for a late-night walk. No suit. No guards. Just him.He took the late bus to the edge of the city, then walked the last mile to the old warehouse. The building sat dark and silent under the security lights. Leo pushed open the rusted side door and stepped inside. Thomas waited in the center of the open space with four men around him. The kidnapped contact sat tied to a metal chair, head hanging low, face bruised and swollen.Thomas looked up and smiled, the kind of smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “You actually came. Alone. I’m almost impressed.”Leo stopped ten feet away. His face stayed hard, eyes locked on his grandfather. “Let him go. This is between us. No o

Thomas Blackwood sat behind the heavy oak desk in his private study, the only light coming from a single brass lamp that cast long shadows across the room. The rest of the large house was silent. He held a glass of whiskey in his right hand, the ice long gone, the liquid warm now. On the large monitor in front of him, live reports from his people scrolled slowly, showing every new post, every new comment, every new whisper spreading across Northwood University.He took a slow sip. The whiskey burned pleasantly down his throat. A small, satisfied smile formed on his lips. “Finally,” he said quietly to the empty room. “The boy is starting to bleed.”One of his assistants, a thin man in a dark suit named Harlan, stood nervously near the door. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “Sir, the second and third pieces of the file are trending on every campus platform. Elena Vance’s name is everywhere. Students are calling her father corrupt, saying the family took dirty money. Her

Thomas Blackwood walked slowly through the long, dimly lit corridor of his private residence. His footsteps echoed on the cold marble floor. The house felt empty tonight, almost too quiet, except for the low hum of the security system that never slept. He had not closed his eyes for more than a few minutes in the last thirty-six hours. Sleep was for men who had nothing left to lose. Thomas still had everything to take.He stopped in front of a heavy door hidden behind a false panel in the wall. With a quick code entered on a small keypad, the door slid open. Inside was a secure operations room he had not used in years. Three of his most trusted men were already waiting around a large table covered with maps, printed documents, and multiple screens showing live feeds from Northwood University.The men stood up immediately when Thomas entered. Their faces showed a mix of respect and nervousness. They knew this meeting was not a request.Thomas didn’t sit. He stood at the head of the tab

Leo limped down the narrow stairs into the basement of the main library, each step sending fresh fire up his leg. The cut on his ankle had opened again under the bandage, and he could feel the warm stickiness of blood inside his shoe. His ribs ached with every breath, tight under the wrap he had tightened that morning. He kept his head down, hoodie pulled low, looking like any other tired 300-level student carrying a backpack and a janitor keycard.He pushed open the heavy metal door to the old storage room at the far end of the basement. The air smelled like dust and old paper. Sebastian was already waiting in the dim light, laptop open on a metal table, face tense.“You shouldn’t be moving around like this,” Sebastian said the moment Leo stepped inside. His eyes went straight to the way Leo favored his left leg. “The warehouse fight left you in bad shape. You need rest, not this.”Leo closed the door behind him and leaned against the wall for a second. His face showed the pain he wa

“You actually showed up.”Thomas Blackwood’s voice cut through the dark warehouse like a blade. He stood in the center of the open space, silver hair catching the weak overhead lights, four armed men spread out behind him. The kidnapped contact sat tied to a metal chair a few feet away, head down, face swollen and bloody. Thomas smiled, but there was no warmth in it, only the cold satisfaction of a man who believed he had already won.Leo stepped fully inside, letting the rusted door clang shut behind him. He wore the same plain gray hoodie and jeans he always used when he wanted to look like any other tired student. His backpack hung on one shoulder. His ankle burned with every step, the cut from the broken glass still raw under the bandage. His ribs ached under the tight wrap, making each breath feel tight and sharp. He kept his face calm, eyes locked on his grandfather.“I’m here,” Leo said. His voice was steady, low, and cold. “Let the man go. This ends between us.”Thomas laughed