DAMIEN
He knew something was wrong the moment the silence changed.
The safehouse had its own rhythm… air vents humming, distant traffic, the subtle tick of cameras tracking motion. But now… it was too quiet.
Damien stood in the hallway outside Ethan’s room, tension coiled tight beneath his skin. The lights were dim, just like he left them. Nothing looked out of place.
Except…
The door was slightly opened.
He pushed it open slowly.
The bed was empty.
Sheets folded. Machines powered down. Monitors blank. Not a single trace of struggle, no alarm triggered. Just absence. Carefully executed. Controlled.
Ethan was gone.
And Isla hadn’t waited.
A sharp breath escaped him as he turned on his heel and stalked through the house.
“Gabriel!” he barked into the comms.
“Report.”
No answe
