Lucas froze even more.
His chest tightened, and for a moment, the entire warehouse felt too small. Jonathan's words echoed in his head like a gunshot.
"Your family."
Before he could even process it—His hands shot forward, gripping Jonathan's shirt tight.
The chair beneath Jonathan scraped against the concrete, his body jerking forward from the force.
Lucas' heart dropped.
His grip tightened on Jonathan's shirt even more, his knuckles turning white.
His breaths came ragged, shallow.
"What did you just say?" His voice was low, dangerous.
Jonathan's grin widened, his eyes gleaming with amusement.
"You heard me, Lucas." He chuckled, shaking his head. "You should've left this alone. Now you'll lose everything."
Lucas' pulse pounded in his ears.
The world around him blurred.
Images of his wife—his daughters—flashed through his mind.
Their laughter. Their smiles.
Then—Their screams.
His chest heaved, his grip yanking Jonathan closer.
"Where are they? Who did you send?"
