Chapter 321

Carville's crooked grin widened. "Impressive." His throat grated harshly. "You've passed. Nine tonight.Meet behind the warehouse."

"I told you to release my wife!" Vincent stepped forward, tone slicing like a blade.

"Why the hurry?" Carville jeered, glancing at Hannah trapped behind the bars. "Miss the job or get clever,and she's not making it to morning."

Vincent's hand launched forward-freezing just short of Carville's face.

"Thinking about swinging?" A tic twitched beneath Carville's wrinkled features. "Better save it. Whether you like it or not, your woman is staying put."

"You-" Fury flooded Vincent like a surging wave,shaking the edge of his control. "Sweetheart!" Hannah's soft, serene voice drifted through-steady, calm, strangely comforting.

Vincent pivoted. Their gazes locked, and in that wordless moment, everything was said. She was telling him to breathe, to hold back.

Vincent's breath came fast, but the lethal fire behind his eyes slowly dimmed.

Hannah shifted her focus to Carville, her words dipped in calculated worry and seemingly forced acceptance. "My husband... He won't get hurt doing this,will he?"

She posed the question carefully, like a typical wife concerned for her spouse.

Carville glanced between Hannah and Vincent. He curled his lip. "Hard to say. That's up to fate."

Hannah quickly adopted an uneasy look, but then-like a thought had struck her-she added, "There's payment, right? We're out here working to earn money."A flicker of contempt sparked in Carville's stare,swiftly buried. Yet, he looked appeased by her grounded, naive mindset. "There is," he muttered."Do your part, and you'll see some."

"Great, then!" Hannah nodded with visible, measured relief and faced Vincent, her tone bright with naive optimism. "Do your best and earn well!"

Then, she subtly moved her lips in a way only Vincent could see. "Be safe." She mouthed.

Vincent's chest tightened. He held her stare a moment longer and then mouthed silently in return."You too."

"Sick of the lovey-dovey crap yet?" Carville interrupted with a scowl, every word steeped in revulsion. "That's enough! You get one hour of visiting time per day. Let's move! The clock's ticking,and this haul's too valuable."

Vincent gave Hannah one lingering glance through the metal enclosure. His features spoke of anguish,resolve, and fierce devotion. Then,he forced himself to turn on his heel. He didn't glance back. He trailed Carville down the dim passage.

Vincent was taken to a crude sleeping area far inside the industrial site.

Calling it sleeping quarters was generous-it resembled a storage shed cluttered with thin mattresses.

Roughly a dozen men lay scattered about, snoring so violently that the air seemed to tremble,unresponsive to Vincent's presence.

Carville lobbed Vincent a ragged gauze roll and a tiny vial of low-quality antiseptic. "Sort it out yourself," he said coolly before striding away.

Vincent wordlessly claimed a vacant spot in the corner.He cleaned and dressed his injuries with little care.

At exactly 8:50 p.m., the door creaked open.

Carville reappeared, flanked by two stiff, hostile-looking men with steely gazes. "Move it," he barked.

Vincent obeyed silently and stepped behind them.

The innermost halls of the plant were eerily still. They navigated rusted conduits and shadowed paths until arriving at a covered gateway hidden behind a thick tarp.

Seven men stood at attention, all wearing the same vicious,predatory stare.

Carville accepted a package coated in oiled cloth from one of the guards and pressed it into Vincent's grip. "Here," he murmured. "You know what to do with this?"

Vincent pulled back the wrap to expose a Glock 17,surprisingly clean. With no sign of reaction, he checked the clip-full capacity-then snapped the slide back to chamber a shot. He slipped it into his waistband. His every move was cold, deliberate, and automatic.

Carville's gaze narrowed, a faint glint emerging in his eyes. "Get in," he said, motioning Vincent forward.

As Vincent passed under the heavy fabric, his jaw clenched in disbelief. WVhat he walked into-was beyond anything he'd imagined.