The warehouse was dark, damp, and smelled of rust and old oil. The faint hum of a generator in the distance was the only sound cutting through the eerie silence.
A single flickering bulb cast harsh shadows against the stained concrete walls, making the place look even more sinister than it already was.
Thomas Winters stepped inside, his shoes echoing against the floor as he moved toward the center of the room.
His eyes were cold, filled with an unrelenting fury that burned deep inside him.
His entire life had fallen apart overnight, and there was only one person to blame—Serena Winthrop.
And tonight, she would pay.
At the far end of the room, tied to a rusted metal chair, Serena sat slumped forward, her long dark hair cascading over her face.
Her body ached, her wrists raw from t
