Zavian's POV:

I reached headquarters, making damn sure I wasn't followed. Three car switches, multiple detours, and a final scan of my surroundings before I stepped out. I was a ghost in the city. The Reaper. I couldn't afford weaknesses.

I moved through the hidden entrance, the steel doors sliding open with a quiet hiss as I entered. Inside, the air was thick with tension. The smell of gunpowder and adrenaline clung to the walls like a second skin.

"Status?" I barked, my voice echoing in the dimly lit room.

A man—Aahil—stood from his spot, throwing a file onto the table. "Confirmed. Daniyal's been running operations from the inside. Now that he's out, he's untouchable unless we take him down fast. The trafficking ring has expanded. New locations, new routes. And boss..."

He hesitated.

I narrowed my eyes. "Speak."

His jaw clenched. "They know about her."

My blood ran cold. A sharp, suffocating silence settled in my chest.

"Who?" My voice was deadly quiet.

"Your wife. Iman. They know she exists, and if Daniyal wants revenge... he won't come for you first. He'll come for her."

I gripped the table so hard my knuckles turned white. The room blurred for a second, drowned in red.

"We end this," I growled, my voice dark, final.

If Daniyal wanted a war, I'd give him one.

But I'd be damned if he touched what was mine.

In the next ten minutes, I had reviewed every possible attack scenario, analyzed weaknesses, and mapped out the final act. There was no room for error. Daniyal thought he had the upper hand, but he had no idea who he was up against.

My men gathered around the long steel table, their faces grim, waiting for my orders. Aahil stood to my right, arms crossed. "We hit first, or we lose our chance," he muttered.

I exhaled sharply, running a hand down my face. "We hit first. But not just anywhere." I tapped the map laid out before us. "Daniyal will expect a frontal attack, but he won't expect us to cut his entire network from the inside out. His supply chains, his informants, his leverage—gone. I want everything burned to the ground before he even realizes we're coming."

Aahil smirked. "Reaper style."

I didn't smile. I couldn't. Not when my wife's life was on the line.

"Teams one and two, you take the ports—every shipment, every warehouse burns tonight. Team three, you handle the informants. I want no loose ends. Aahil, you're with me. We're going for the head of the snake."

The room tensed. They knew what that meant. We weren't just going after Daniyal's business.

We were going after Daniyal.

"Move out." My voice was cold, calculated.

I grabbed my gear, strapped my weapons, and checked my watch.

By sunrise, Daniyal's empire would be nothing but ash.

Iman's POV:

I felt a wave of nausea crash over me like a violent tide. My eyes snapped open, and before I could process anything, I clamped a hand over my mouth and ran to the bathroom. The moment I reached the sink, my stomach lurched, and I retched violently.

Tears burned my eyes as I gasped for air, my body trembling. I gripped the edge of the sink, trying to steady myself. My chest felt tight—too tight, as if something was pressing down on me, suffocating me. Another wave hit. I barely had time to take a breath before I doubled over again, my body convulsing.

And then—fingers. Cold. They tangled in my hair, pulling it back into a tight grip. A hand pressed against my back, rubbing slow circles.

Zavian?

My breath hitched. No... something felt wrong. The scent was different. The grip, too firm. Too unfamiliar. My entire body went rigid.

I forced myself to look up, my reflection staring back at me in the mirror. And behind me—

A man.

A stranger.

Smiling.

Before I could process what was happening, the man's grip tightened in my hair. My heart slammed against my ribs as fear crawled up my spine.

Then—cold metal. A gun.

I barely had time to gasp before he swung. A sharp, searing pain exploded through my skull. My vision blurred, a strangled sound escaping my lips as my legs buckled beneath me.

The world tilted.

Darkness swallowed me whole.

Zavian's POV:

I moved like a shadow, my gun steady in my grip. Aahil and the rest of my team followed closely, their steps just as soundless. The scent of blood and damp concrete filled the air—familiar, almost comforting in a twisted way.

"Daniyal's men are scattered," Aahil whispered. "We take them out first. Then him."

I gave a sharp nod, eyes scanning the warehouse. Every corner, every shadow held the possibility of an ambush. But they didn't know who they were dealing with.

Reaper was here.

I motioned with two fingers, signaling my men to spread out. They obeyed without hesitation, slipping into the darkness like they belonged there. I moved forward, gun raised, my breathing controlled.

One. Two. Three.

Shots fired. Silenced. Clean. Bodies dropped without a sound.

We advanced.

Daniyal had no idea his time was running out.

And I had no idea... that mine was too.

We stepped further in, the stench of sweat, fear, and something rotten clinging to the air. I clenched my jaw. Women. I knew they were here. My country's women. Stolen. Sold. Shattered.

Aahil moved beside me, his grip tightening on his gun as we crept past the dimly lit corridor. My pulse was steady, my rage a silent storm beneath my skin.

A faint cry.

I froze.

The sound came from behind a rusted door at the far end of the hall. My fingers curled into fists before I forced myself to move. I reached the door, pressing my back against the wall. Aahil did the same on the other side.

"Three men inside," he murmured, ear pressed to the wood. "Armed. Women, too. At least five of them."

I exhaled slowly, gripping my gun tighter.

"On my count," I whispered.

Aahil nodded.

Three. Two. One.

I kicked the door open.

Chaos erupted.

_

The women were rushed out, bundled into the safety of waiting vehicles. I barely spared them a glance—my focus was ahead. There were more.

Children.

I knew.

The thought made my grip tighten on the gun, my knuckles turning white. If there was anything more vile than trafficking women, it was the monsters who dared to do the same to children.

We moved forward, deeper into the compound, the air growing heavier. The silence was unnatural. Calculated.

"They know we're here," Aahil murmured, his voice tight.

"Let them," I muttered, stepping into the next corridor.

A sound echoed. A soft whimper.

I halted.

To my left, a metal door stood slightly ajar. My breath slowed. I moved forward, shoving it open—

A child.

A girl, no older than six, curled in a corner, her body trembling. Filthy. Wide-eyed. Her lips quivered as she stared up at me.

I lowered my gun immediately.

"Hey," I whispered. "You're safe now."

She flinched.

My stomach twisted.

Before I could step forward, a shadow shifted behind me.

Aahil cursed.

Gunfire erupted.

I spun on my heels, instincts kicking in. Gunfire tore through the air, bullets ricocheting off the walls. Aahil dove behind a stack of crates, returning fire, while my other men scattered into position.

A figure lunged at me from the side. I twisted, dodging the blow just in time, slamming the butt of my gun into his face. The sickening crunch of bone filled my ears as he staggered back. I didn't hesitate—I raised my gun and pulled the trigger.

One down.

Another stormed toward me, knife in hand. I sidestepped, grabbing his wrist mid-air, twisting it until I heard the snap of bone. He screamed, dropping the weapon, and I silenced him with a swift bullet to the skull.

"Cover the exits!" I shouted, my voice cold, calculated.

I turned back toward the little girl. She hadn't moved. She was too scared to. My chest burned, but I couldn't reach her yet. Not now.

More men poured in from the other side of the corridor. They were ready for us.

I bared my teeth.

Let's see who survives.

Aahil shouted, "Left flank—three hostiles!"

I didn't wait. I lunged forward, firing at the men coming from the left. One went down instantly. The other two ducked behind a pillar, sending a rain of bullets in my direction.

"Tch."

I dove for cover, rolling behind a broken table. My breathing was steady, my hands still. This was what I did. This was what I was made for.

I met Aahil's gaze across the room.

He nodded once.

Without warning, we both moved. Aahil threw a smoke grenade, covering our movements, and I charged forward, emerging through the haze like a shadow of death.

They didn't even have time to react.

Bang.

Bang.

Two more bodies hit the ground.

Silence.

Only the sound of my heavy breathing remained.

I straightened, scanning the room. The rest of my men had taken care of the remaining threats. We had won this battle.

But my blood ran cold.

Because if this was their hideout, if these were their men—

Where the hell was Daniyal?

Iman's POV:

My head throbbed like it had been split open. A dull, pounding ache that made it hard to think. I let out a weak groan, tilting my head slightly. My lips were cracked, my throat raw—burning with thirst.

I forced my eyes open, blinking against the dim, flickering light. A woman stood in front of me, her lips pressed into a thin line, her expression unreadable. But the second she noticed my gaze, she looked away, her eyes flickering toward someone else in the room.

Panic clawed its way up my chest.

Where was I? What happened?

Then—

"What's the problem?"

A man's voice. Deep. Unfamiliar. Too close.

Not Zavian's.

The memories slammed into me all at once. The nausea. The bathroom. The hands in my hair. The blow to my head.

My breath hitched, and I forced my body to move, but it felt like I was sinking in quicksand.

"She's expecting," the woman said.

And my world stopped.

My eyes snapped wide open, my heart hammering against my ribs.

Expecting?

No. No, that couldn't be.

Not now. Not here. Not when I was in the hands of a monster.

Before I could even process the words—before I could even let the truth settle into my bones—a rough hand clamped around my arm and yanked me upright.

A sharp gasp tore from my throat as I stumbled forward, my legs weak beneath me. My dazed eyes lifted, locking onto the man before me.

That smirk.

Oh, Allah.

It was vile. Disgusting. A predator's smile carved onto his face like he was savoring my fear.

I struggled, instinct kicking in, but the resistance was useless—I felt the bite of rope digging into my wrists. My breath hitched as I yanked against the restraints, my pulse hammering.

No.

My eyes snapped downward, the sight of my bound hands sending a fresh wave of panic flooding through me.

Then, slowly, I lifted my gaze back to him.

And I saw it.

The amusement in his eyes.

Like he enjoyed watching me realize just how trapped I was.

"Zavian found a nice chick," he muttered, his eyes dragging over me like I was something to be appraised—something to be owned.

Heat crawled up my neck, burning my cheeks, but it wasn't just humiliation twisting inside me. It was anger. Raw, biting rage.

I yanked at my restraints again, but his grip only tightened, fingers bruising into my skin. "Tch," he clicked his tongue, amusement flickering in his gaze. "Feisty. No wonder he kept you hidden."

A sickening realization settled in my gut. He knew Zavian.

Who was this man?

"What do you want?" My voice was hoarse, but I refused to let it shake.

His smirk widened, lips curling with something dark. "Want? Oh, sweetheart," he leaned in, his breath hot against my skin. "I just want to see how much the Reaper bleeds when I take his most prized possession."

My stomach dropped.

Reaper?"Reaper?" I whispered, "Who's Reaper?"

His smirk deepened, amusement flashing in his dark, predatory gaze.

"Oh, sweetheart," he drawled, his fingers gripping my chin, forcing me to look at him. "You really don't know, do you?"

I wrenched my face away, disgust curling in my stomach. "I don't know what you're talking about," I snapped, my wrists burning against the restraints as I struggled. "Who is Reaper?"

His chuckle was slow, cruel. "Oh, this is rich. Zavian really kept you in the dark, didn't he?"

Zavian.

My chest tightened. What did he have to do with this?

"I asked you a question," I gritted out. My voice was hoarse, my throat raw, but I refused to let this man see my fear.

He tilted his head, watching me like a predator watching wounded prey. "Reaper is the man your beloved husband turns into when the sun goes down," he murmured, his voice almost gentle. "Reaper is the nightmare every criminal fears. Reaper is the man who's killed more people than you can count."

My breath hitched.

No.

He was lying.

He had to be lying.

Zavian wasn't a killer.

My Zavian—my husband—was distant, cold at times, but he wasn't...

"You're lying," I whispered, shaking my head. My heart pounded, nausea rising in my throat.

He leaned in again, his voice a whisper of poison. "Then why do you think you're here, hmm?"

I swallowed hard, my vision swimming.

No.

No.

Zavian wouldn't—

"He kills?" I whispered, my voice barely audible.

The man grinned, slow and taunting, like a wolf toying with its prey. "Oh, sweetheart," he murmured, tilting his head as if he pitied me. "He doesn't just kill."

My breath hitched.

He leaned in, his grip tightening around my arm. "He slaughters."

I yanked away, my bound wrists burning from the force. "You're lying." My voice shook, but I forced myself to glare at him. "You're trying to mess with my head."

His laugh was quiet, condescending. "Am I?" He dragged a chair forward and dropped into it, his legs spreading out casually, as if we were having a normal conversation. "Tell me, love—where do you think he goes late at night?"

My pulse pounded.

I knew where he went. He had work. Always work.

Didn't he?

"You don't know a damn thing about him," I spat, trying to hold onto my anger, to keep the panic from consuming me.

His lips curled, his dark eyes glittering with amusement. "But I do, sweetheart." He tapped his temple. "I know everything about your husband. And soon enough, you will too."

I clenched my teeth, forcing myself to meet his gaze. "And what do you want from me?"

He let out a slow, satisfied sigh. "That's the right question." He leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "I want Reaper to suffer. And you, my dear, are the perfect way to do that."

My stomach twisted.

Zavian.

Whatever this was, whatever hell he lived in, I was now a part of it.

"Who are you?" I hissed, twisting in his grip, trying to push him off. My wrists burned against the restraints, but I didn't care.

The man chuckled, his fingers tightening cruelly around my arm, dragging me closer. His breath was warm, sickeningly sweet. "Oh, darling, you really don't know, do you?" He tilted his head, studying me like I was some fragile thing he was debating on breaking.

My heart pounded.

I refused to show fear.

"Let me go." My voice was sharp, filled with a defiance I wasn't sure I could hold onto.

He grinned, slow and taunting. "You don't give the orders here, sweetheart." His fingers trailed up my arm, sending shivers of revulsion down my spine. "But since you asked so sweetly..." He paused, savoring the moment before he leaned in, his lips brushing the shell of my ear. "Daniyal."

The name crashed into me like a bullet.

Daniyal.

Zavian's stepbrother.

The one who had escaped.

My blood ran cold.

"You—" My voice faltered, my throat suddenly dry.

"Me," he confirmed, tilting his head, watching my reaction with amusement. "And now that introductions are out of the way, let's talk about why you're here."

I swallowed hard. "Zavian will find me."

Daniyal smirked. "I'm counting on it."

Before I could process his words, his hand swung through the air, fast and ruthless. Pain exploded across my cheek, white-hot and searing. My head snapped to the side, a strangled gasp leaving my lips.

The world spun.

Darkness rushed in, swallowing me whole.