The heavy bunker door hissed shut behind Ethan, Felix, and Jax as they stepped inside. The dim, flickering overhead lights painted long shadows across the cold concrete walls. The air was thick with the scent of metal and dampness. The bunker was supposed to be safe—sealed, secure. But something was off.

  Ethan’s instincts prickled. He felt the weight of the silence.

  “Where is everyone?” Felix whispered, gripping his rifle tighter.

  Jax took a cautious step forward, eyes scanning the dark corners of the bunker. The place wasn’t ransacked, no signs of struggle—yet the absence of their team sent a chill down his spine. They were supposed to be here. Waiting.

  A metallic clatter echoed from the far end of the room.

  Ethan’s breath hitched. He turned toward the source of the noise—a dimly lit corridor leading to the main hall. Slowly, he crept forward, signaling for the others to follow.

  Then he saw them.

  Vance, Rhea, Lila, and Maya were on their knees, hands bound behind their backs, faces bruised and bloodied. And standing in front of them, wearing that same damn slow, confident smirk, was Dorian Kane.

  “Welcome home, boys,” Dorian drawled, twirling a knife between his fingers. His men, five of them, all heavily armed, stood positioned around their prisoners. “I was beginning to think you’d never show.”

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  Jax stiffened. “How the hell did you get in here?”

  Dorian chuckled. “Oh, you’d be amazed what a few well-placed threats can do. People talk. And lucky for me, you lot aren’t as subtle as you think.”

  Ethan’s hands balled into fists. “Let them go.”

  Dorian raised a brow, amused. “You’ve got some nerve, kid. You steal from me, cause a mess in my market, and now you think you’re in a position to make demands?”

  Felix shifted slightly, fingers brushing against his holster. Dorian caught the movement immediately.

  “I wouldn’t,” he said, pressing his boot down on Vance’s back, forcing a groan from the injured man. “Unless you want your friends to start losing pieces.”

  Rhea lifted her head, her eyes burning with defiance. “You’re a coward.”

  Dorian chuckled, amused. “No, sweetheart. I’m a businessman. And right now, you’re all bargaining chips.”

  Ethan took a step forward. “What do you want?”

  Dorian’s grin widened. “Ah, finally, some sense. What I want, Harper, is a deal. You have something I need. A map, buried in that little stash of yours. You give it to me, and maybe I don’t start cutting fingers.”

  Ethan exchanged a glance with Jax and Felix. They didn’t have a map. Or at least, they didn’t think they did. But Dorian was convinced. And that made him dangerous.

  Ethan took a deep breath. “And if we refuse?”

  Dorian exhaled dramatically, then without warning, he yanked Maya up by her collar, pressing the knife to her throat. “Then she’s the first to go.”

  A tense silence fell.

  Felix clenched his jaw. Jax’s fingers twitched toward his weapon. Lila let out a soft whimper, her usually sharp wit drowned in pure terror.

  Ethan felt his pulse pound in his ears. They had no leverage, no clear way out. And Dorian knew it.

  But Ethan wasn’t about to let his people die. He needed a plan. Fast.

  His eyes flicked to the overhead lights—the flickering ones. The electrical panel was nearby. If he could get to it…

  He exhaled slowly, steeling himself. Then, without warning, he lunged—not for Dorian, but for the switch.

  The bunker plunged into darkness.