Chapter 31

The warehouse was eerily quiet, the calm before a storm. Julian stood at the front, his back turned to the group of mercenaries scattered behind him. Their faces were tense, their bodies poised and ready for action. The dim lights cast long shadows across the cold, concrete floor, only emphasizing the danger they all knew was coming.

Erica paced near the far side of the room, her arms crossed, eyes sharp. She had donned a more tactical outfit, black jeans and a fitted leather jacket. Her hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail, revealing the sharpness in her eyes—a focus that hadn’t been there weeks before. The shift in her demeanor was noticeable to everyone, especially Julian.

King sat at a nearby table, loading magazines with slow precision, the click of bullets sliding into place echoing through the space. The rest of Julian’s men, hardened and silent, made their final preparations, adjusting their firearms, knives, and tactical gear. They knew what was coming; it had been brewi