Chapter 8 - Beneath the Stone
As Damon studied the corkboard, his eyes caught a secondary detail tucked into the lower corner—a set of GPS coordinates printed on a small piece of thermal receipt paper, alongside a time stamp scheduled for midnight tonight.
The coordinates didn't point to the reservoir. They pointed to an abandoned dry dock in the maritime district—an industrial wasteland owned by a defunct import-export firm that Damon had acquired three years ago and completely forgotten about.
A trap? Or an invitation?
In Damon’s world, the two were rarely mutually exclusive.
“Diego,” Damon commanded, turning sharply toward his head of security. “Pull together a tactical transport. Full gear, silent loadout. We’re moving in twenty minutes.”
“Boss, if this is a setup by the old guard or the Russian syndicate trying to draw you out—”
“It’s not the Russians,” Damon interrupted, his gray eyes flashing with cold certainty. “It’s her. And if she wants a chess match, I’m done playing from behind a desk.”
As Damon walked back up the stairs toward the main estate, he found Lily waiting for him in the grand foyer. The little girl had put on her oversized denim jacket and was buckling her red sneakers. The Warden sat beside her, letting out a low whine as if sensing the impending departure.
“You’re going to find her now, aren't you?” Lily asked, looking up at him with those piercing amber-brown eyes.
May you like
Damon stopped, looking down at the child who had effortlessly dismantled his million-dollar security system with a smile and a secret handshake.
“Yes,” Damon said, his voice firm. “And you’re coming with me. I’m not losing either of you a second time.”
