đź“– Chapter 12: Taken
1053 Words
The night should have ended quietly.
It didn’t.
---
2:17 AM
Kristen couldn’t sleep.
Every small sound felt like a warning.
Dylan lay beside her, eyes closed — but she knew he wasn’t sleeping either.
He never truly slept when there was danger.
She carefully slipped out of bed.
“I’ll just get water,” she whispered.
He didn’t respond.
But she knew he heard.
---
The Kitchen
The penthouse was dim, running on night-security lighting.
Soft shadows.
Too many corners.
Kristen poured water into a glass.
Her hands still trembled from earlier.
She tried to calm herself.
You’re safe.
You’re protected.
You’re watched.
The last thought made her uneasy.
She turned—
And the lights went out.
Complete darkness.
Her heart slammed.
“Dylan?”
No response.
The emergency backup lights flickered faintly red.
Then—
A hand clamped over her mouth.
She tried to scream.
Nothing came out.
Strong arms pinned her.
She bit down hard.
The man grunted.
“Move,” a low voice ordered from behind her.
Her pulse exploded.
They were inside.
How?
Security. Guards. Steel shutters.
None of it mattered.
A needle pierced her neck.
Her vision blurred instantly.
No.
No.
She fought.
Kicked.
Scratched.
But her limbs turned heavy.
The last thing she saw before darkness swallowed her—
Was Dylan bursting into the hallway with a gun in his hand.
And blood on his sleeve.
---
2:21 AM
The bedroom was empty.
The bed cold.
Dylan’s instincts screamed before his mind caught up.
Then the power cut.
He grabbed his weapon.
Ran.
Too late.
He reached the kitchen just as two masked men dragged Kristen toward the service elevator — the one rarely used.
One of them fired.
The bullet grazed his arm.
He didn’t feel it.
He shot back.
One dropped.
The other shoved Kristen inside and slammed the doors shut.
Dylan sprinted.
Fired again.
The elevator descended.
Too fast.
He hit the emergency override.
Locked.
External control.
Professional.
Planned.
Not random.
Calculated.
He slammed his fist against the wall.
For the first time in years—
Rage overrode logic.
“She’s gone,” one of his guards said quietly.
Dylan turned slowly.
No emotion.
Too calm.
“Seal every exit in the city.”
“Sir—”
“Now.”
His voice wasn’t loud.
But it was lethal.
---
Unknown Location
Kristen woke to darkness.
Cold concrete beneath her.
Her wrists tied behind her back.
Her head throbbed.
She forced herself to breathe slowly.
Don’t panic.
Don’t show fear.
A door creaked open.
Light spilled in.
A man stepped inside.
Well dressed.
European.
Calm.
“You’re stronger than expected,” he said smoothly.
She swallowed.
“Who are you?”
“A businessman.”
She glared at him.
“You broke into my home.”
“And your husband interfered in mine.”
Her chest tightened.
“Montenegro.”
He smiled faintly.
“Very good.”
“You won’t get what you want.”
“Oh, we already have what we want.”
He crouched in front of her.
“You.”
Her pulse thundered.
“You think he’ll negotiate?” she asked quietly.
The man studied her.
“No.”
She froze.
“Then why take me?”
His smile sharpened.
“To watch him break.”
---
The Penthouse
Dylan stood in front of a wall of screens.
Tracking feeds.
Traffic cameras.
Port access.
Private airports.
“Any movement?” he asked.
“Three black SUVs were seen exiting downtown fifteen minutes ago.”
“Plate numbers?”
“Fake.”
He exhaled slowly.
“Bring me Adrian.”
The room went silent.
“Sir?”
“Now.”
---
Adrian’s Office – 3:02 AM
Adrian didn’t resist when Dylan’s men entered.
He knew what this meant.
He was brought to the penthouse.
Forced to kneel.
Dylan approached him slowly.
“She’s gone,” Adrian said immediately. “And it wasn’t me.”
Dylan’s eyes were empty.
“If you’re lying—”
“I’m not.”
A tense silence.
“You knew about Montenegro,” Adrian continued carefully. “But I didn’t know they’d move this fast.”
“You should have warned me.”
“You would’ve ignored it.”
Maybe.
Dylan didn’t respond.
“Listen,” Adrian pressed. “If they took her, they’re not asking for money.”
“I know.”
“They want control.”
“Yes.”
“And if you retaliate—”
“They kill her,” Dylan finished.
The room went deadly still.
This wasn’t business now.
This was personal.
Adrian swallowed.
“What’s your move?”
Dylan’s jaw tightened.
“I don’t negotiate with kidnappers.”
Adrian shook his head.
“Then she dies.”
Silence.
Then—
Dylan turned toward the window.
City lights stretching endlessly below.
His reflection looked colder than ever.
“She won’t die,” he said quietly.
“How can you be sure?”
Dylan’s voice dropped.
“Because if she does…”
He turned back.
“…there won’t be a Montenegro left to return to.”
Even Adrian felt the chill.
---
Unknown Location
Kristen sat still.
Listening.
Counting seconds.
Tracking footsteps.
She refused to cry.
Refused to beg.
The man returned hours later.
“You’re calm,” he observed.
“I won’t give you satisfaction.”
He chuckled.
“You misunderstand. We don’t need your fear.”
“Then what do you need?”
He leaned closer.
“Your husband’s surrender.”
She laughed softly.
“He won’t.”
The man’s eyes sharpened.
“We’ll see.”
He pulled out his phone.
Turned on a live video.
Dylan.
Standing in his penthouse.
Watching the camera directly.
Kristen’s heart stopped.
He knew.
“Mrs. Blackwood,” the European voice said into the call. “Tell your husband to reconsider.”
Kristen swallowed.
Dylan’s eyes burned through the screen.
He looked furious.
But controlled.
“Kristen,” he said evenly.
Her voice trembled slightly.
“I’m okay.”
The kidnapper smirked.
“For now.”
Dylan’s gaze shifted to the man holding the phone.
“You have twenty-four hours,” the man said calmly.
“After that, negotiations end.”
The call cut.
Silence filled the dark room again.
Kristen’s pulse pounded.
He had 24 hours.
And knowing Dylan—
He wouldn’t negotiate.
---
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