Zane walked ahead, hands bound loosely at the front with a cord they barely tightened—because they didn't think they needed to. He was calm on the outside, but his lips were already curling into something between amusement and fury.
One of the gang members shoved him lightly from behind.
"Move."
Zane didn't flinch. Instead, he turned his head slightly and chuckled under his breath. "You guys really think you've done something smart, huh?"
The men walking with him exchanged glances but said nothing. Zane raised his voice.
"No, really. I want you to remember this moment. Burn it into your heads—because this is the last smart move you'll ever make."
He shook his head slowly, voice rising with every word. "Kidnapping me? Me? Out of all people? You lot must be suicidal."
He laughed now—low, deep, and mocking.
"I hope you didn't make any plans for tomorrow. Hell, I hope you didn't make plans for dinner. Because none of you… none of you are walking out of this alive."
