The helicopter cut through the darkening sky like a de, followed by two more. Inside the lead aircraft, Corbin Ashworth''s face remained impassive, but his eyes burned with cold fury.


    "ETA five minutes, sir," the pilot announced.


    I could feel the tension radiating from the man beside me. As head of Corbin''s security detail, I''d seen him angry before—but never like this. This wasn''t anger; this was wrath incarnate.


    "Ind authorities are requesting identification andnding permission," themunications officer reported.


    Corbin didn''t even nce up. "Decline."


    "Sir, they''re threatening to scramble security forces if we—"


    "Let them try," Corbin cut him off, his voice like ice. "Anyone who stands between me and my father will be removed."


    The men around me exchanged nces. We all understood what "removed" meant.


    North Province Ind''s administrative district came into view—a cluster of modern buildings surrounded by the ind''s more modest structures. Our target: the central office building where Ivan Dillon ruled his small kingdom.


    "Perimeter secure?" Corbin asked.


    "Yes, sir. Team Two has alreadynded at the port. Team Three is approaching the warehouse where the signals were traced."


    Corbin nodded once. "Take us down."


    The helicopter descended onto the rooftop helipad of the central administrative building. Before the des had fully stopped spinning, Corbin was out the door, twenty armed men falling in behind him.


    A security guard burst through the roof ess door, pistol drawn. "This is a restricted—"


    The words died in his throat as he took in our numbers and weaponry.


    "Where is Ivan Dillon?" Corbin demanded.


    The guard swallowed hard. "F-Fifth floor. Executive office."


    "Move aside."


    The guard ttened himself against the wall as we passed.


    Inside, rms red. Staff scattered like frightened birds as we descended through the building. Two security officers attempted to block our path on the sixth floor. They were disarmed and restrained within seconds.


    When we reached the fifth floor, a line of guards had formed a barricade outside the executive suite. Their hands hovered near their weapons, but uncertainty showed on their faces.


    Corbin stepped forward. "I am Corbin Ashworth of Veridia City. You have ten seconds to disperse."


    A brave—or foolish—guard stood his ground. "This is North Province territory. Your name means nothing here."


    The temperature seemed to drop ten degrees as Corbin''s expression hardened further.


    "Three seconds have passed," he stated calmly.


    The head security officer apparently recognized what the others didn''t—the deadly promise in Corbin''s eyes. "Stand down," he ordered his men. "Stand down now!" My Virtual Library Empire (*) hosts the original.


    The guards hesitated, then slowly backed away from the doors.


    "Wise decision," Corbin said, then turned to me. "Secure this floor. No one in or out."


    With a nod, I positioned men at both ends of the hallway while Corbin approached the double doors of the executive office.


    He didn''t knock. The heavy wooden doors crashed open under his boot.


    Inside, Ivan Dillon jumped to his feet behind an ornate desk. "What is the meaning of this?" he demanded, though his voice wavered.


    Corbin crossed the room in four long strides. "Where is my father?"


    Ivan blinked rapidly. "Your father? I don''t—"


    Corbin seized him by the throat, lifting him partially off the ground. "Michael Ashworth. Where is he?"


    Ivan''s face reddened as he wed at Corbin''s grip. "I don''t know what you''re talking about!"


    "Wrong answer." Corbin mmed him back into his chair. The expensive leather piece skidded backward, crashing into the window behind it.


    A young woman—likely Ivan''s secretary—cowered in the corner, clutching a tablet to her chest.


    "You," Corbin pointed at her. "Tell me what you know about three people being held at a warehouse near the port."


    The woman''s eyes widened. "I—I don''t—"


    "The truth," Corbin insisted, his voice dropping dangerously low. "Now."


    "M-Mr. Dillon''s nephew brought them in," she stammered. "Brandon Lee. He called a few hours ago, very excited about catching some troublemakers."


    Corbin''s attention snapped back to Ivan. "Your nephew?"


    Ivan''splexion had gone from red to ashen. "Brandon? What has that foolish boy done now?"


    "He''s kidnapped Michael Ashworth," Corbin growled. "My father."


    The color drainedpletely from Ivan''s face. "That''s... that''s impossible. He wouldn''t dare..."


    "Call him," Corbin ordered. "Now."


    With trembling hands, Ivan reached for his phone. After several rings, a voice answered.


    "Uncle! I was just about to call you. You won''t believe who I''ve got locked up!"


    Ivan''s eyes never left Corbin''s face as he spoke. "Brandon, what have you done?"


    "Taught some mainders a lesson about respect," Brandon boasted. "Some old man and hispanions thought they coulde here and—"


    "An old man?" Ivan''s voice cracked with fear. "What was his name?"


    "Michael something. Ashworth, I think. Why? Does it matter?"


    Ivan nearly dropped the phone. "Brandon, listen to me very carefully. Release them. Release them immediately. Their son is—"


    "Son?" Brandon scoffed. "Let hime! Uncle, don''t you see? This is our chance to show everyone that North Province Ind doesn''t bow to mainders—not even the high-and-mighty Ashworths!"


    Ivan''s gaze traveled up to Corbin''s thunderous expression. "Brandon, you don''t understand. His son is already here."


    A pause on the line. "What?"


    "Corbin Ashworth is standing in my office right now," Ivan whispered, his voice shaking.


    Silence stretched for several seconds before Brandon responded, his arrogance finally faltering. "That''s... that''s impossible. He couldn''t have gotten here so quickly."


    Corbin leaned forward, speaking directly into the phone. "I move heaven and earth when ites to my father. Where is he?"


    Brandon''s voice turned high and thin. "I... we didn''t hurt him! We just wanted to teach him a lesson about—"


    "Where?" Corbin roared.


    "Warehouse Six at the eastern port," Brandon blurted. "But Uncle Ivan had nothing to do with this! I acted on my own!"


    Corbin ended the call with a savage jab of his finger. He turned to hismunications officer. "Tell Team Three the exact location. Secure my father and the others immediately."


    "Yes, sir."


    Ivan attempted to rise from his chair, but Corbin shoved him back down.


    "Please," Ivan pleaded, "this is all a misunderstanding. My nephew is young and impulsive. He doesn''t understand—"


    "Silence." Corbin''smand cracked like a whip. "Your nephew kidnapped my father. Your ind, your responsibility."


    Ivan''s terror was palpable now. "What are you going to do?"


    Corbin''s smile was colder than a winter storm. "I''m going to make an example of North Province Ind. By tomorrow, everyone in Havenwood will know the price of touching what''s mine."


    The inte on Corbin''s belt crackled to life. "Sir, this is Team Three. We''ve reached the warehouse but... there''s a problem."


    Corbin snatched the device. "What problem?"


    "They''re not here, sir. The warehouse is empty except for phones belonging to Mr. Ashworth, Miss Ashworth, and Mr. Knight. Signs of recent upation, but they''ve been moved."


    Corbin''s gaze burned into Ivan with such intensity that the man shrank further into his chair. "Where are they now?"


    "I swear I don''t know!" Ivan gasped. "Brandon never told me about any of this!"


    The secretary stepped forward, her voice small but steady. "Mr. Lee called about twenty minutes before you arrived. He said something about moving ''the packages'' to a more secure location."


    "Where?" Corbin demanded.


    "He didn''t say. But..." she hesitated, "he mentioned calling Morales for help with the transfer."


    Ivan''s eyes widened. "Morales? My head of ind security?"


    Corbin seized the front of Ivan''s shirt. "Call him. Now."


    With shaking hands, Ivan dialed. After two rings, a gruff voice answered.


    "Boss, I can''t talk right now. We''re in the middle of—"


    "Morales," Ivan interrupted, his voice strained. "Where are you? Where is Brandon?"


    A pause. "We''re at the old fishing depot on the north shore. Brandon ordered us to move the prisoners because he thought—"


    "Listen to me," Ivan cut him off, panic evident in his voice. "Release them immediately. That''s a direct order!"


    "But Brandon said—"


    "I don''t care what Brandon said! Do it now!"


    Corbin snatched the phone. "This is Corbin Ashworth. If my father isn''t released unharmed in the next five minutes, I will personally ensure that everyone involved suffers consequences beyond your imagination."


    He ended the call and turned to hismunications officer. "Redirect Team Three to the fishing depot on the north shore. Full tactical approach."


    "Yes, sir."


    Ivan swallowed hard. "Please, Mr. Ashworth. This was all Brandon''s doing. The ind government had nothing to—"


    The crack of bone splitting echoed through the office as Corbin''s foot connected with Ivan''s leg. Ivan screamed, clutching his now-broken limb.


    "Your ind, your responsibility," Corbin repeated coldly. "Now, you will personally take me to my father."


    Ivan looked up through tears of pain. "I... I can''t walk..."


    "Then crawl."


    The secretary gasped. Two of my men looked away.


    Ivan''s face contorted with agony as he lowered himself to the floor. "Please... I''ll tell you how to get there. Just don''t make me—"


    "You''ve already wasted four of your five minutes," Corbin stated tly. "Choose how you spend thest one."


    With a sob of pain and humiliation, Ivan began to drag himself toward the door.


    Corbin looked around the opulent office, at the symbols of Ivan''s authority over his small domain. With a single gesture to his men, he ordered: "Burn it all down."


    As we followed Ivan''s painful progress toward the elevator, his tearful words tumbled out in desperate pleas.


    "Mr. Ashworth, I... I''m going to find Old Master Ashworth right now..."