Peien's boot connects with her bedroom door before the hinges fully give way, splinters flying across the expensive地毯. The silence hits him first—a wrongness that makes his military-honed senses scream danger.

Her bed is empty. Not just messy—violated. The sheets are twisted as if she struggled, one pillow hanging off the edge. His eyes lock on the white card placed deliberately on her nightstand, the crowned snake of La Sombra glinting under the bedroom light.

"Where is she?" His voice is low, dangerous—more growl than question—as he grabs the nearest maid by her throat, slamming her against the wall. She gasps for air, eyes wide with terror as his fingers tighten.

"I—I didn't see anything, Señor! The security system—"

He releases her abruptly, sending her crashing to the floor. "Check the cameras again. If you find so much as a pixel out of place and don't tell me immediately..." He doesn't finish the threat. He doesn't need to.

The encrypted phone in his pocket burns against his skin. When he checks the message, his jaw tightens so hard he feels his molars grind. There she is—his charge—bound to a chair with a gun at her temple. The message beneath makes his blood boil:

"Come alone, bodyguard. Come prepared to lose."

Peien reaches for the combat knife at his waist, flipping it open with a sharp click. They want a fight? He'll give them a massacre. No one takes what's his.