Chapter 533
Autumn leaves crunched under Bryan’s shoes as he navigated the overgrown path. Smoke curled from his lips as he puffed on one cigarette after another, flicking the butts aside.
Each discarded cigarette butt was a ticking time bomb, its ember igniting the tinder-dry undergrowth.
Smoke soon began to rise, carried by the breeze through the silent woods.
In the heart of the forest stood an abandoned chemical factory. A sheer cliff face loomed behind it. The air there had once carried a faint, acrid tang of untreated wastewater that had poisoned the land.
The factory had been deserted for years, and while the air had cleared, the lingering scent of chemicals still remained inside.
Bryan reached the entrance of the factory, his gaze fixed on the menacing helicopter perched on the rooftop.
A hulking figure emerged from the helicopter, his booming voice echoing from the rooftop. “You’re a tough act to follow, just like they said. Coming alone? Now that shows guts. Makes me think I made the right choice.”
“Where is my daughter?” Bryan’s gaze locked onto the figure, unwavering even under the harsh glare of the midday sun.
“Step inside.” The man signaled with a wave and descended from the rooftop stairs.
Bryan lit his last cigarette, trying twice to get it burning.
When he pulled out his phone, his pupils narrowed at the sight of a message from Josue, sent just seconds before.
The message contained detailed information about the man, Coen Padilla, whose veins pulsed with the blood of various underworlds.
Generations of wickedness had shaped the powerful and arrogant Coen of today.
Bryan pocketed his phone and walked slowly into the factory.
Coen had come down from upstairs, followed by numerous men in black. The men were clearly armed.
Coen smiled at Bryan and extended his hand as he approached. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“Cut the crap.” Bryan scanned the area, but Gabriela and Ruby were nowhere to be seen. He turned back to Coen. “Before we discuss your terms, I need to know they’re safe.”
Coen seemed taken aback. “How did you know I had conditions to discuss with you?”
“You wouldn’t have made the effort to kidnap them otherwise.” Bryan’s intense gaze held firm.
Coen had scars crisscrossing his face and a noticeable wound on his throat.
Despite his smile, an aura of violence lingered around him.
For years, Bryan was the first person who dared stare him down, which fueled Coen’s excitement. “What do you think? Should I recruit him?” Coen asked his men.
“It’s up to you, sir,” the leading man in black replied.