Adrian reacted instantly, twisting his body to break the hold and raising his fists.

But the second guard stepped in, raising his weapon and pointing it directly at Adrian’s chest.

“Don’t make this difficult, Vale,” he warned.

The cold barrel of the gun glinted in the flashlight beam.

“Adrian, don’t,” I whispered, touching his back.

He tensed, his breathing heavy, but he slowly lowered his hands.

“Walk,” the guard ordered, gesturing toward a small wooden door at the side of the warehouse.

They guided us toward the building, the gravel shifting under our feet.

The first guard pulled a heavy ring of keys from his pocket, selecting a brass one.

He unlocked the padlock on the door, the metal clicking loudly in the quiet night.

He kicked the door open, revealing a dark, cavernous space inside.

“In,” he said, giving Adrian a rough shove forward.

Adrian went first, his steps deliberate and slow.

I followed him, the cold, musty air of the warehouse washing over my face.

The moment my boots cleared the threshold, the heavy wooden door slammed shut behind us.