Present~~
Max stood in the aftermath of his latest kill, staring down at the blood that dripped from his hands. The cold, detached version of himself, the one who had learned to sever all connections to remorse, was creeping back in. But something else nagged at him—a storm brewing in his chest, churning the moment Yara's face came into focus in his mind.
She was still out there. Taken.The frustration gnawed at him, and despite his violent upbringing, this was different. It wasn't about control anymore. This was personal.---The night before Yara had been kidnapped, she had been quieter than usual. She'd noticed the blood on his jacket, staining the fabric like some dark, spreading cancer. She didn't say anything, not really. Just a glance. A flicker of fear. But it was there. The unspoken tension between them, thick in the air.Max had been rough with her that night—his dominant side taking control, maybe too much. He had grabbed her by the waist, pulling her close before she could pull away, before her doubts could become words. "It's nothing," he had said in his usual, ice-cold voice. She hadn't questioned him further, but he could feel her apprehension.He had brushed it aside. He always did. And now...she was gone.Max paced his dim apartment, the silence mocking him. The information he had gathered led him nowhere—just dead ends and silence. But he knew someone, The Architect, was behind this. The man who had manipulated every piece of this game, pulling the strings with a level of mastery Max both loathed and respected. It didn't matter who was responsible, though. He would burn the whole city down if it led him back to her.---The trail of bodies had gotten him close—a few low-life scum connected to the criminal underworld—but still, there was no sign of Yara. Each man he interrogated left Max with more questions, and each time he pressed for answers, he met only with lies or silence.Max's patience was wearing thin.It was in the early hours of the morning when he stumbled onto his first real lead. A hacker named Vance, buried deep within the city's criminal circuit, had been feeding Max tiny breadcrumbs of information. Finally, Vance revealed that someone had paid a hefty sum to ensure Yara's disappearance. The name whispered to Max was Luther, a shadowy figure that even Max hadn't crossed paths with yet."Luther's the key," Vance said, his voice shaky as he typed away on his laptop, paranoid glances thrown over his shoulder. "You find him, you find your wife."Max didn't thank him. He didn't need to. The end was coming, and Vance knew better than to expect mercy from a man like Max.---The next day, the sun barely up, Max found himself standing outside a dilapidated warehouse near the docks—an old stronghold used by Luther's men. The building was crumbling, but the security was tight, heavily armed guards patrolling its perimeter.Max wasted no time. He slipped through the shadows, bypassing most of the guards with silent efficiency. When he did encounter resistance, he dealt with it swiftly—one guard's throat slit in the dark, another's skull smashed against the concrete wall. He was a ghost, unseen, and deadly.As he made his way inside, something felt off. The place was eerily quiet. Too quiet. His instincts were screaming, warning him that something wasn't right, but he pushed forward anyway. Yara could be inside. She had to be.---When he finally reached the heart of the warehouse, Max found Luther—sitting behind a desk, casually sipping from a glass of whiskey. He didn't even look up as Max entered the room, though he smiled slightly.
"So, you're the one causing all the trouble," Luther said, his voice calm, almost amused.
"I've been expecting you."Max's gun was trained on him instantly, his finger tightening on the trigger. "Where's Yara?"
Luther leaned back, swirling the whiskey in his glass. "She's alive. For now. But this—" he gestured around them, "isn't about her, Max. You know that."
Max's eyes narrowed. "Then what is it about?"
Luther's smile widened, his gaze cold and calculating. "It's about control. It's always been about control. You're predictable, Max. I knew you'd come here, guns blazing, and you didn't disappoint. But the truth is...you're already too late."
Max's heart skipped a beat. Something about the way Luther said it, the certainty in his voice, sent a chill down his spine.
"What did you do?"
Luther set down his glass, finally standing to face Max. "You think you're the only one who can play this game? You think you're the only one who can take life and control the outcome? No, Max. I've been in control since the beginning. Everything you've done...everything you've tried to stop...was all part of the plan."Max's blood ran cold.
"What do you mean?"
Luther's grin was sharp, cutting like a blade. "I'm not the one holding Yara. But I am the one who put her in the hands of someone much worse. And as we speak...they're finishing what I started."Max lunged forward, grabbing Luther by the throat, slamming him against the wall with a force that rattled the building.
"Where is she?" he roared, his voice shaking with rage.But Luther just laughed—a hollow, cruel sound that echoed in the empty room.
"You'll never find her. And even if you do...she won't be the same.
"Max's vision blurred with fury as he slammed Luther harder into the wall. He wanted to kill him, to end the man's life right there and then. But killing him wouldn't bring Yara back.He let go, letting Luther crumple to the floor, gasping for breath.
"You'll find out soon enough," Luther coughed, still smiling through the pain. "But when you do...it'll already be too late."
Max left him there, barely alive, as he stormed out of the warehouse, his mind racing with the grim possibilities.As he stepped back into the cold night air, the truth dawned on him. This wasn't just about him anymore. Whoever had taken Yara was playing a bigger game—one he had been a pawn in all along.And now, the clock was ticking.
Tick Tock
---
