Noah quickly secured Mochi’s wrists behind her back with firm, practiced efficiency, tightening plastic zip ties until they held her securely without risk of cutting off circulation. He added another set to her ankles, ensuring she wouldn’t escape if she regained consciousness unexpectedly. Vivian stood to the side, her breath shaky and uneven as she held her injured hand carefully against her chest. Blood seeped slowly through the makeshift cloth bandage, her fingers trembling slightly from pain and residual adrenaline.

  Steeling herself, Vivian stepped forward, quietly rummaging through Mochi’s pockets and retrieving her phone. She handed it silently to Noah, her expression a mix of determination and lingering unease.

  Noah paused briefly, concern darkening his eyes as they lingered on Vivian’s injured hand. “We need to get that properly cleaned and wrapped,” he said gently, his voice softening with genuine worry. “We’ll deal with it as soon as we’re safe.”

  “We need to move,” Noah continued softly, his voice calm but edged with urgency. He glanced again at Vivian, carefully assessing her condition before nodding towards the door.

  Together, they carried Mochi swiftly yet discreetly from the motel room to Noah’s parked vehicle. Vivian cast cautious, anxious glances around the parking area, her heart pounding with every shadow. Noah positioned Mochi carefully into the backseat, draping a jacket over her restrained body, obscuring the zip ties from any passing eyes.

  Before starting the car, Noah turned fully to Vivian, his gaze earnest and concerned. “How bad is the pain?” he asked quietly, his voice gentle yet firm. “We can stop quickly if you need something for it.”

  Vivian shook her head slowly, managing a brave but unconvincing smile. “I’ll manage. It just hurts—it’s fine for now. Let’s just go.”

  Reluctantly, Noah started the engine, still casting worried glances at Vivian’s injured hand. Her fingers were pale, tinged faintly red from the blood soaking through the cloth. Noah navigated calmly through the darkened streets, his eyes routinely flicking to the rearview mirror, carefully monitoring for any sign of pursuit or complications.

  Vivian finally broke the heavy silence, her voice tight with lingering tension. “Are you sure this place is safe?”

  Noah glanced at her briefly, his gaze steady and reassuring despite the darkness surrounding them. “It’s discreet,” he replied softly. “Nobody who matters will come looking. Just hang on, okay? We’ll take care of that hand as soon as we get there.”

  They arrived at the abandoned warehouse, an imposing structure standing isolated at the edge of San Francisco’s industrial area. The building loomed against the night sky, its rusted metal walls and broken windows whispering of neglect and abandonment. Noah expertly maneuvered the car into a shadowed loading bay at the warehouse’s rear, carefully hidden from the dimly lit street.

  “Stay close,” Noah instructed tersely as he stepped out, swiftly lifting Mochi’s still-unconscious form from the vehicle. His eyes flicked toward Vivian again, silently assessing her injury without voicing his growing concern.

  Vivian followed closely, stepping carefully across cracked concrete and past scattered debris. Her eyes darted nervously around the shadowed interior, noting old crates stacked haphazardly, rusted machinery abandoned and silent, and the scent of stale oil and dust lingering heavily in the air. Each heartbeat sent another pulse of pain through her injured hand, sharpening her awareness.

  Inside, Noah positioned Mochi in a simple metal chair at the center of an empty storage room, illuminated starkly by a single overhead bulb that swung slightly with their movement, casting shifting, eerie shadows along the walls. Vivian watched quietly, deeply unsettled by the practiced ease with which Noah handled the situation, his actions precise and methodical. Noah carefully checked Mochi’s restraints once more, ensuring they were secure yet not dangerously tight, his expression calm but intensely focused.

  Before waking Mochi, Noah paused, his gaze landing once more on Vivian’s injured hand. Without a word, he retrieved a first-aid kit from his car, his movements efficient yet gentle.

  Vivian watched him approach warily. “I’m fine—just finish with Mochi first,” she insisted, pulling her injured hand protectively closer to her chest.

  “You’re still bleeding,” Noah said quietly, his voice steady yet firm. “Just hold still.”

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  Reluctantly, Vivian relented, extending her injured hand toward him. Noah knelt before her, carefully unwrapping the blood-soaked cloth. The wound was deep, the gash raw and angry.

  “You’re going to need stitches,” Noah murmured softly, his brows knitted in concern. “I can help with that when we get home.”

  “Your home,” Vivian corrected softly, a faint smile tugging at her lips despite the pain.

  Noah glanced up at her, amusement and warmth flickering in his dark eyes. “You couldn’t just let me have that one, could you?”

  The tenderness in his gaze made Vivian’s heart flutter uncomfortably, her cheeks growing warm. She quickly looked away, hoping he wouldn’t notice.

  Noah’s voice softened further, concern edging his tone. “Weren’t you scared?”

  Vivian hesitated, swallowing hard. “I was more scared to lose the one link we have to Serena,” she admitted quietly, wincing as the reality of the situation settled heavily upon her.

  Noah nodded silently, beginning to gently disinfect her wound. Vivian winced sharply with each careful touch, the adrenaline now faded and replaced by intense, throbbing pain.

  “Sorry,” Noah whispered gently. “I’ll try to be gentler.”

  “It’s okay,” Vivian managed, her voice strained with discomfort.

  When he finally finished bandaging the wound, Noah lifted Vivian’s hand gently, surprising her as he pressed a soft, careful kiss to her fingertips through the thick bandages. The simple act sent heat rushing through Vivian’s veins, her heart racing as her face flushed deeply.

  Noah looked up at her, eyes darkened with a blend of desire and genuine affection. His voice was intense, barely above a whisper. “Don’t do this again, Viv. Don’t hurt yourself like this. You keep getting hurt because of me, and I can’t stand seeing you like this.”

  Vivian stared at him, momentarily speechless, uncertainty flickering across her face. Was this another of his games, or was this sincerity? Before she could form any response, Mochi began to stir behind them, pulling their focus sharply back to the present.

  Mochi’s eyes flickered open slowly, confusion swiftly replaced by sheer panic as she took in the cold, stark surroundings of the warehouse. Her breath quickened, her chest heaving with fear, her limbs pulling frantically against the restraints holding her tightly in place. Vivian stepped immediately into her line of sight, a fierce, chilling resolve etched clearly on her face.

  “You wouldn’t have sabotaged the interrogation unless you knew something,” Vivian stated coldly, her voice unwavering and edged with quiet menace.

  Mochi's initial fear shifted quickly into defensive desperation. “I don’t know what you’re—”

  “I don’t have time for your bullshit,” Vivian cut her off sharply, her voice dangerously calm. “Talk. Now.”

  Mochi’s eyes darted anxiously toward Noah, searching for any trace of sympathy or rescue. Finding none, she began pleading rapidly, cycling through desperate bargains and manipulative promises, each attempt more frantic than the last. Yet Vivian remained utterly unmoved, her gaze fixed and relentless. Noah stood nearby, silently supportive, letting Vivian assert full control, fascination darkening his eyes as he observed her unexpected ruthlessness.

  “You say you know Noah,” Vivian murmured quietly, leaning closer until Mochi flinched backward instinctively, “but do you really? If you did, you’d realize that answering my questions now is far easier than facing his methods later.”

  Mochi swallowed hard, visibly shaken by Vivian’s stark warning. She shuddered and began speaking, desperation seeping into her voice. “Okay—okay. Mike Liu and his girlfriend—they were murdered five years ago. They skimmed funds from Black Lotus. Sammy told me Vince, Serena, Marcus and a bunch of others —I don’t know their names, they were all involved. But I swear, I don’t know who blackmailed Sammy. All I know is, whoever it was, Sammy is terrified of them.”

  Vivian felt her heart skip sharply at Serena’s name. Her voice was tight with barely concealed fury as she pressed harder, “And Serena? What happened to her?”

  Vivian felt her heart skip sharply at Serena’s name. Her voice was tight with barely concealed fury as she pressed harder, “And Serena? What happened to her?”

  Mochi hesitated, fear visible. “Someone took her—a hired guy named ‘Key.’ That’s it, Vivian, that’s everything!”

  Something in Vivian snapped. She refused to accept Mochi’s denial. Without hesitation, she snatched the knife Mochi had earlier used on her, driving it violently into Mochi’s thigh. “Tell me where she is!”

  Mochi’s scream was agonizing, echoing around the warehouse, reverberating painfully in Vivian’s ears. “I don’t know! I swear, I don’t know!”

  Vivian’s anger intensified; she wrenched the blade free, plunging it ruthlessly into Mochi’s other thigh. Mochi’s screams grew shriller, more desperate, filling the warehouse with her agony. She twisted helplessly, crying hysterically, “Please, stop! I’ve told you everything!”

  “Not good enough,” Vivian hissed, gripping the knife tightly.

  “Wait! Wait!” Mochi sobbed hysterically, desperation finally shattering her resistance. “I know the other names—but that’s all, I swear! Jace Ng, Ray Wen, Erica Mo, Angie Tseng. I swear, I don’t know more than that!”

  Vivian hesitated for just an instant, horror creeping into her awareness, the cruelty of her actions suddenly stark and undeniable. Yet she crushed this hesitation swiftly beneath the overwhelming need for answers, her mind refocusing sharply on Serena’s disappearance.

  Mochi turned pleading eyes to Noah, begging frantically for mercy, her voice broken and pitiful. But Noah merely watched with dark amusement, struggling to suppress twisted laughter bubbling inside him.

  Finally, Noah stepped closer, gently placing a hand on Vivian’s shoulder, pulling her aside. “Go back to the car. I’ll handle Mochi from here.”

  Vivian hesitated briefly, suddenly aware of how deep she'd plunged into a darkness Serena had desperately wanted her to avoid. Yet, the thought of finding Serena renewed her resolve, her expression hardening once more. She nodded stiffly and left without another glance.

  Once Vivian had disappeared into the shadows, Noah crouched down to face Mochi, his features taking on a chilling, predatory calm. Mochi trembled, her breaths catching with sobs as she begged desperately, “Noah, please—please, we've known each other for years. Didn’t you once say I reminded you of someone special? Didn’t you say you’d let me go?”

  Noah smiled dangerously, his voice soft and deadly. “It's funny, actually. Now that I see clearly, you don't remind me of her at all. I can't believe I ever thought you did.”

  Mochi’s voice cracked, her words barely a whisper. “Noah, please, I don’t understand—”

  He grabbed her hair, forcing her gaze upwards, his voice a venomous hiss. “You’re nothing but a poor imitation, a cheap copy. I thought you might have been her once, but now that I've found her again,” he laughed coldly, his voice edged with cruelty, “you’re pathetic by comparison.”

  Mochi’s sobs deepened, shaking her violently. “Noah, please—I don't know what you’re talking about.”

  “You don’t need to,” Noah whispered, leaning close, his breath hot against her ear, his voice filled with dark promise. “You're about to learn exactly what happens when you touch what's mine.”