The seconds bled away like open veins on a clock.
Inside the ruined medical bay, Chloe stared at the glowing coordinates on her phone, her body trembling violently under the weight of Boris's terrifying ultimatum. Thirty minutes. She had thirty minutes to reach the abandoned container yard at the Lagos port before the Russian brute executed her son.
"I have to go," Chloe whimpered, her voice breaking as tears streamed down her soot-stained cheeks. She grabbed her coat, turning toward the doorway with a desperate, frantic urgency. "Asher, please... you heard him! He said if he sees you or anyone else, he'll kill Leo! You're badly wounded, you're bleeding—let me go alone!"
Asher swung his legs off the examination table, ignoring the sharp, tearing agony in his chest as his stitches strained. His dark eyes locked onto her with absolute, unyielding authority as he stood up, his tall frame towering over the room despite his blood loss.
