The silence in the east wing of Grayhaven House was so heavy it felt like a physical weight. The two armed guards standing at the doorway held their breath, their fingers twitching over the holsters at their hips

A violent thunderstorm enveloped Baltimore Port. Massive shipping containers stood like towering ghosts in the pitch-black night while waves crashed violently against the docks.

Damian walked alone through the rows of containers, clad in a plain black overcoat. He brought no escort and wore no body armor. All he carried was a single firearm and the wild fury of a father prepared to tear the world apart for his child.

From the darkness of Warehouse 9, dozens of armed men stepped out, rifles raised. At the center stood Don Moretti—the elderly mobster leading the southern cartel—and beside him stood someone Damian never expected: Elena, the psychologist who had treated Damian during his recovery two years ago.

"Elena..." Damian looked up, his gaze locking onto the woman in the white coat whose eyes burned with hatred.

"Surprised, Don Volkov?" Elena laughed bitterly. "Do you know who my father was? He was the man you shot dead during the Chicago purge ten years ago! Did you think doing charity work and saving a few deaf kids would erase your blood debt?"

"I don't care about your past," Damian stepped forward, his voice cutting through the wind. "Where is my daughter?"

Elena gestured. Two gunmen dragged Lila out from behind a container. Her hands and feet were bound with heavy rope, and her mouth was sealed with tape. But because her hearing aid was destroyed, she couldn't hear the roar of the ocean or the yelling around her.

Yet, when she saw Damian, there was no fear in her eyes. She only saw her father.

Lila struggled to move her bound hands, pressing her fingers together into a small heart shape toward him.

Damian’s chest throbbed with excruciating pain.

"Let the child go," Damian demanded, his deep voice overpowering the rain. "You want my life, my family's wealth. Take it all. Just let my daughter go."

"Too late, Damian!" Elena screamed, drawing a gun and aiming it directly at Lila’s head. "I want you to feel the agony of losing what you love most! I want your rotten heart to stop in pure despair!"