The man holding the flashlight kept the beam locked on Adrian’s face.

“Private property,” the second guard said, his voice flat. “You’re trespassing.”

“I am Adrian Vale,” Adrian said, stepping forward. “We are here to see Grant.”

The guards did not look surprised.

The one with the flashlight smirked slightly, the light bobbing as he walked.

“Mr. Vale,” he said. “The boss said we might find you wandering around.”

My heart sank.

Sienna’s warning had been too late; Grant had already expected us.

“Where is Sienna?” I asked, stepping out from behind Adrian’s shoulder.

“None of your business, lady,” the second guard said.

He reached into his jacket, and my breath caught as I saw the black metal of a handgun.

He did not draw it fully, but his hand rested heavily on the grip.

“Let’s go,” he said, gesturing toward the side of the nearby wooden warehouse.

“We are leaving,” Adrian said, his voice dropping an octave. “We will go back to our car.”

“No, you won’t,” the first guard said, stepping closer.

His heavy hand grabbed Adrian’s shoulder with a firm, violent grip.