She Whispered “There’s a Bomb” to the Ruthless Billionaire—What He Did Next Shocked Everyone!

They had eight minutes when the first bullet hit the print shop's metal shutter.

“Back room,” June ordered. “There's a tunnel to the old loading yard.”

Lucian grabbed the laptop. Adrian grabbed a steel shelf and shoved it against the door. Mara took a photograph of every face on the missing-children wall, because she couldn't bear the idea of the evidence burning.

“Move!” Adrian shouted.

They ducked through a trapdoor into a narrow passage that smelled of ink and floodwater. Behind them, men battered the front entrance. The shelf crashed down.

June led with a flashlight. “The tunnel ends under an overpass.”

“Tell me you have a car there,” Mara said.

“I have a bike.”

“For four people?”

“I didn't know I'd be hosting a reunion.”

They emerged into morning traffic. June's contact arrived with a delivery truck, its side painted with a cheerful cartoon peach. They climbed in among crates of oranges while police sirens wailed somewhere behind them.

Mara sat on the floor, catching her breath. Adrian's knuckles were split. She took a clean cloth from a crate and wrapped his hand.

“You don't have to do that,” he said.

“I know.”

“Then why?”

“Because somebody should.”

He watched her fingers knot the bandage. For a moment the truck's rattling faded and there was only their shared, exhausted silence.

Lucian cleared his throat. “Hate to interrupt whatever that is.”

“Then don't,” Mara said.

June spread a city map across the floor. “Sophie was taken because her mother audited a Nightjar account. The kidnappers needed leverage. We can still intercept the transfer, but we need the person with master access.”

“Who?” Adrian demanded.

June pointed to a photograph attached to the map. It showed a silver-haired woman at a hospital fundraiser, arm in arm with the mayor.

Adrian felt as if he'd been punched.

“That's Aunt Celeste,” he said. “She raised us after Mom died.”