Grayson’s SUV screeched to a halt in the Marina District, the rusted silhouette of Building 12 looming against the night sky like a forgotten relic. The text—Come alone, or she dies—burned in his mind. Luna’s bruised face and defiant plea replayed like a relentless nightmare. Trap or not, he’d walk through fire to bring her home.
His fingers brushed the concealed Glock at his waist, its cold weight a reminder of the stakes. He wasn’t a soldier, wasn’t trained for this, but for Luna—the woman who’d crashed into his world and stolen his heart—he’d become anything.
Marcus’s voice crackled through his earpiece, urgent and low. “Thermal scans show six hostiles inside—armed, spread out across the lower level. You’re walking into a kill zone.”
“Stay back,” Grayson said, his voice steady despit
