It was 5:30 AM, and Alexander was walking through the fancy streets of Pantheon Valley, his mind crowded with far too many thoughts. His wife, Seraphina Lockwood, had hurriedly left to go see Lady Charlotte.
"That mischievous old hag," he muttered to himself.
It wasn't hard to guess why Lady Charlotte had summoned Seraphina. She must have seen the news, realized how wrong she was, and now wanted to save face by calling Seraphina over to reinstate her as Project Manager—probably behind closed doors to preserve her dignity.
Seraphina knew this too, which was why she had been more excited than a bee stuck in jelly. Even though she was in such a rush, she still managed to put on her finest outfit, perfect her makeup, and look every bit the part of a soon-to-be, or rather long-overdue, Project Manager.
Alexander couldn't have been more relieved by the timing of it all, but her final words before she left still haunted him:
*"Alex, we will finish our conversation."*
He had looked back at her, his eyes filled with questions—*What the hell do I tell her?*—but he knew she would demand answers.
As he walked, deep in thought, his attention was suddenly drawn to a woman standing near an ATM machine, a large duffel bag in her hand. Alexander glanced at his wrist to check the time—it was 5:40 AM. It wasn't unusual for people to make early withdrawals in Pantheon Valley, but something about her posture made him stop. The closer he looked, the more uneasy he became. The woman was trembling, her eyes filled with tears as her shaking hands tried to insert her card into the ATM.
"What the hell... something's not right," Alexander murmured to himself. His eyes scanned the area, and that's when he noticed it—a black SUV with tinted windows parked a short distance from the ATM.
Alexander approached the woman, positioning himself just behind her as if he were also about to withdraw money. Ironic, considering he didn't even own an ATM card, and if he ever needed money, he could buy the entire bank instead.
"I'm here to help," Alexander whispered quietly into her ear.
"What?" she gasped, rattled by his sudden presence, her voice filled with fear.
She was so lost in her predicament that she hadn't even noticed him approach.
"Is this a robbery?" he asked. "Just nod if it is."
The woman gave a small, trembling nod. "My son… they have a gun to my son's head," she whispered, her voice barely audible through her fear.
"What's your name?" Alexander asked, his tone calm but urgent.
"Anna," she replied, her voice shaky.
"Okay, Anna, listen carefully. Stay still, don't turn around, and keep acting like you're withdrawing money for as long as you can. I'll handle the rest."
"What are you? A cop?" she asked, her eyes flickering with desperate hope.
"It doesn't matter right now. Just do as I say, and I promise I'll save both you and your son. Understood?"
Anna nodded, her hands still trembling as she feigned typing on the ATM.
Alexander's gaze shifted from Anna to the black SUV. His mind clicked into focus—he'd dealt with situations like this before. The fear in her voice, the tension in her body language, the ominous SUV with tinted windows—it all painted a clear picture.
"Stay calm. I'll take care of it," Alexander muttered softly, stepping away slowly so as not to draw attention.
He surveyed the area again, spotting a man standing by a side alley, phone in hand—most likely the one coordinating the whole thing. The man was distracted, pacing nervously, too focused on his phone call to notice Alexander approaching.
Alexander moved with swift precision. In a single motion, he grabbed the man by the throat, cutting off any chance to cry out. His eyes bulged in shock, but before he could react, Alexander delivered a sharp punch to his jaw, sending him crashing into the alley wall. The man collapsed, unconscious before his body even hit the ground.
Quickly, Alexander rifled through his pockets, finding a gun tucked into his waistband and a set of keys—likely for the SUV. He pocketed both, then dragged the body further into the shadows, out of sight.
His next target: the driver.
Alexander crouched low, moving along the side of the vehicle. He could just make out the figure of the driver, sitting restlessly behind the wheel, checking the rearview mirror. He was clearly waiting for something—or someone.
Perfect.
With a quick, decisive move, Alexander yanked open the driver's door. The man whipped around, eyes wide with shock, but Alexander was faster. He grabbed the driver by the collar and slammed him against the SUV with bone-jarring force. The man gasped, reaching for his gun, but Alexander was a step ahead. He drove his knee into the man's gut, knocking the wind out of him.
"Who's holding the kid?" Alexander growled, his voice low and dangerous.
The driver wheezed, struggling to catch his breath, but Alexander wasn't about to wait. He delivered a brutal punch to the man's ribs, and the driver slumped against the SUV.
"Talk," Alexander demanded, his grip tightening.
"The kid… he's in the warehouse, two blocks down!" the driver gasped, barely able to speak.
Satisfied with the answer, Alexander slammed the man's head against the car door, knocking him out cold. He tossed the keys onto the seat, then glanced back toward Anna, who was still frozen by the ATM, her eyes wide with fear and confusion.
"Your son's nearby. Stay here. Don't move until I give you the signal," Alexander instructed firmly.
Without waiting for a response, he sprinted toward the warehouse. The early morning streets of Pantheon Valley were eerily quiet, the only sound being his steady footfalls echoing in the distance. His pulse remained calm, his focus razor-sharp.
The warehouse loomed ahead, a decaying structure with rusted metal walls and broken windows. Alexander approached cautiously, slipping into the shadows, his body tense and ready. Inside, he could hear muffled voices—two men, possibly armed.
He moved quickly, spotting the boy tied to a chair in the center of the room. He couldn't have been older than ten. Two men stood nearby, one with a gun in hand.
Alexander's instincts kicked into overdrive.
Spotting a metal pipe on the floor, he picked it up and hurled it across the room, creating a loud clatter. The armed man turned at the sound, giving Alexander just the opening he needed. In an instant, he was on him, disarming him with a quick twist and delivering a brutal elbow to his temple. The man crumpled to the ground, unconscious.
The second man lunged at Alexander with a knife, but Alexander sidestepped, grabbing the man's wrist and twisting it with a sharp crack. The knife fell from his grasp, and Alexander followed up with a knee to the chest, sending him crashing into a stack of crates.
It was over in seconds.
Alexander knelt by the boy, cutting through the ropes with quick precision.
"Your mom's safe," he said, his voice gentle. "Let's get you out of here."
The boy nodded, his eyes wide with trust. Alexander guided him out of the warehouse, just as the first light of dawn began to break over Pantheon Valley.
When they reached the ATM, Anna ran forward, tears streaming down her face as she embraced her son tightly. Alexander stood back, watching quietly for a moment before stepping forward.
"Let's get you both home," he said calmly.
As they started down the street, Alexander's phone rang. It was Seraphina. Relief washed over him—he expected good news, but as soon as he heard her voice, his heart sank.
"Hello, Seraphina," he answered, but was met with the sound of sobbing.
"Stay where you are, I'll be right there," he said urgently, his pulse quickening.