The heavy iron doors of the warehouse slammed against the rusted frame, sending a shower of orange dust into the freezing dawn air. Footsteps—slow, deliberate, and echoing like gunshots—approached the corner where I held the little girl against my chest. Her fingers dug into the denim of my jacket, her breathing ragged with a mixture of terror and recognition.

The monitors went static one by one as the invaders cut the feeds. Darkness swallowed the room, leaving only the dim red glow of the backup battery system.

Clara was curled on the cot, her eyes wide with terror. “Is Papa going to die?”

“No,” I lied, trying to keep my voice steady. “Your father is very strong.”

Suddenly, a heavy thud echoed from the heavy steel door of the panic room. Then another.

CLANG. CLANG.

Someone was using a thermite torch to cut through the reinforced lock. Sparks bled through the seams of the steel door, melting the metal like butter.

I grabbed an iron fire poker leaning against the wall and stood in front of Clara, every instinct telling me to fight, even if it was useless.

With a deafening crash, the steel door caved inward. Smoke poured into the room, and through the haze stepped Detective Vance. He blew a breath of smoke from his cigar, tossing the spent torch aside.

“Hello, Maya,” Vance said, his voice calm, almost polite. “Quite a night for a bus to be late, isn't it?”

“You,” I hissed, raising the fire poker. “You put that tracker on me. You set this whole thing up.”

Vance laughed softly, stepping over the ruined door frame. “Set it up? No, my dear. You were just a happy accident. When my men dropped Clara at the warehouse, they didn't expect a shivering civilian to wander in. But when you put your jacket around her, my operative slipped the transponder into your pocket. You brought us straight to Vane’s ultimate sanctuary.”

“You’re a cop,” I said, my teeth clenched. “You’re supposed to enforce the law, not slaughter people in their homes!”

“Law?” Vance scoffed, his eyes darkening. “Don Vane controls this city’s politicians, its courts, its banks. The law can't touch him. So, I built my own army. I’m taking his empire down tonight, and I’m taking everything he owns—including his precious little heiress.”

He gestured toward Clara. “Bring the girl.”

Two of his tactical guards stepped forward. I swung the fire poker with all my strength, striking the first guard across the helmet. He stumbled back, but the second guard grabbed the metal rod, twisted it out of my hands, and slammed his fist into my stomach.

I dropped to the floor, gasping for air, pain exploding across my ribs.

“Maya!” Clara screamed as the guard lifted her off the cot.

“Leave her alone!” I wheezed, trying to crawl forward, but Vance placed the heel of his boot firmly on my back, pinning me to the cold concrete.

“You’ve been very brave, Maya,” Vance murmured, aiming his revolver down at the back of my head. “But heroines don't survive in this city.”