Their headlights were off, but the faint glow of the streetlights showed figures emerging.

They wore dark tactical gear, carrying short-barreled rifles.

“Camille didn’t just buy Marcus,” Adrian said, his voice cold. “She hired professionals.”

“How did she find Marcus?” I asked, backing toward the mattress where the children slept.

“The Hart family has accounts in every offshore bank from here to the Cayman Islands,” Adrian said. “She has resources that even my grandfather can’t easily track.”

He walked to Isabella’s side and took a second weapon from her locker.

“She’s been tracking my personal digital footprint since I left the estate,” Adrian said. “She knew which accounts I accessed to get the emergency cash.”

He looked at me, a deep shadow of regret crossing his face.

“She traced the wire transfers to Marcus’s shell company,” he added.

“It doesn’t matter how she did it,” Isabella interrupted, her voice sharp. “They are at the perimeter.”

The sound of metal scraping against concrete echoed from the lower level.

It was the sound of the heavy security gate being slowly lifted.