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The chilling smile on Lance's face was enough to make Ava's blood run cold. His eyes gleamed with a sadistic pleasure as he surveyed them, the glint of control flickering in his gaze. Flanked by his men, all armed and ready, he looked every inch the predator, and Ava realized just how carefully he had set this trap.
"Did you really think you could waltz in here, take a few snapshots, and leave?" Lance taunted, his voice dripping with mockery. "You underestimate me, Ethan. And Ava…" His gaze settled on her, his smile widening. "I expected better from you."
Ethan took a step forward, shielding Ava from Lance's view, his voice calm but deadly. "The only mistake here is yours, Lance. Thinking you could keep this going without facing consequences."
Lance laughed, the sound hollow and twisted as he glanced at his men. "Consequences? My dear, naive friends, you are *in* my world now. No one's coming to save you. You're alone."
A tense silence settled as Lance gestured to his men, who immediately raised their weapons, ready to strike. Ethan's gaze hardened, his body coiled with the readiness of a trained fighter. Ava could feel the tension radiating from him, a silent promise that he wouldn't go down without a fight.
Lance gave a single nod, and chaos erupted.
Ethan sprang forward, moving with the precision of a panther. In one swift motion, he grabbed the nearest guard's arm, twisting it sharply until the man cried out in pain, the gun dropping from his grasp. Ethan didn't waste a second—he knocked the man back with a brutal strike to the jaw, sending him sprawling to the ground.
But there was no time to celebrate. Another guard lunged at him, swinging a metal baton. Ethan ducked, narrowly avoiding the blow, and retaliated with a powerful kick to the man's chest, sending him crashing into a stack of crates.
Ava, her heart pounding, quickly assessed her surroundings. She spotted a long metal rod on the ground nearby and grabbed it, bracing herself as two guards advanced toward her. She swung the rod with all her strength, catching one of them across the shoulder. He grunted, stumbling back, but the second guard grabbed her wrist, twisting it painfully until she was forced to drop the rod.
She gasped, but her instincts kicked in. Drawing on the self-defense moves Ethan had taught her, she twisted her body, breaking free from the guard's grip and delivering a sharp knee to his stomach. He doubled over, and Ava followed through with an elbow to his back, sending him crumpling to the floor.
A glance toward Ethan showed him surrounded, his movements sharp and calculated as he fought off three men at once. Despite the odds, he remained relentless, every strike precise as he blocked blows, dodged attacks, and countered with brutal efficiency. Ava felt a surge of awe and determination watching him. They weren't out of this yet.
But just as she steadied herself, she felt a rough hand grab her shoulder, yanking her back. She turned to see Lance himself, his face twisted with anger and satisfaction. He held a small knife in his hand, the blade glinting ominously as he raised it toward her.
"Enough games," he hissed, tightening his grip on her arm. "It's time I finished this."
Ava's heart raced as she struggled, but Lance's hold was iron-strong. She felt the cold edge of the blade press against her skin, a dangerous promise of what was to come. Panic clawed at her, but before Lance could strike, a familiar voice cut through the noise.
"Get your hands off her."
Ethan's voice was deadly calm, his eyes burning with a fury Ava had never seen before. He took a step forward, his gaze locked on Lance, every muscle tense with the promise of retribution.
Lance's smile wavered slightly, but he held his ground. "Come any closer, Ethan, and she bleeds."
Ava felt Lance's grip tighten, but she forced herself to stay calm, focusing on Ethan. She knew he wouldn't risk her life, but she also knew he wouldn't let Lance walk away.
"Lance," Ethan said, his voice a low growl, "you've made this personal for the last time."
In a flash, Ethan lunged forward, his movement a blur. Lance swung the knife toward him, but Ethan sidestepped, grabbing Lance's wrist and twisting it until the blade clattered to the ground. In one swift motion, Ethan delivered a powerful punch to Lance's face, sending him reeling back.
Ava scrambled to her feet, grabbing the knife as she positioned herself beside Ethan, ready to back him up. Lance glared at them, blood trickling from his lip as he steadied himself, a look of pure hatred on his face.
"Is that all you've got?" Lance sneered, wiping the blood from his lip. He gestured to the remaining guards, who were regaining their composure, ready to strike again.
But Ethan wasn't fazed. He moved quickly, his focus unbreakable as he launched into another assault. Ava watched, ready to jump in whenever needed, but Ethan's control over the fight was mesmerizing. With a series of powerful blows, he took down each guard, leaving no room for them to retaliate.
Finally, it was just the three of them—Ethan, Ava, and Lance.
Lance looked between them, his confidence fading as he took a step back, his eyes darting toward the exit. But Ava was faster. She stepped forward, blocking his path, her expression fierce.
"You're not getting away," she said, her voice steady despite the adrenaline coursing through her.
Lance's gaze darkened as he realized he was cornered. Desperation flashed across his face, and in one final act of defiance, he charged toward them, his fists clenched. But Ethan was ready. He sidestepped Lance's wild swing, delivering a brutal punch to his gut, followed by a swift uppercut that left Lance stumbling back, dazed.
As Lance fell to his knees, Ethan grabbed him by the collar, his voice low and dangerous. "You thought you could hurt her and get away with it? You thought you could control everything without facing the consequences?"
Lance tried to snarl a response, but Ethan's grip tightened, cutting him off. "This is over, Lance," he said, his voice filled with finality. "Your reign of terror ends here."
With one final blow, Ethan knocked Lance unconscious, his body slumping to the ground. Silence filled the warehouse, the echoes of the fight fading as Ava and Ethan stood over him, their breathing heavy.
Ava looked at Ethan, a mixture of relief and admiration in her eyes. "We did it," she whispered, the reality of their victory settling over her.
Ethan nodded, his gaze softening as he took her hand. "It's over," he said, his voice filled with both exhaustion and relief. "He can't hurt us anymore."
They walked out of the warehouse together, leaving behind the darkness and stepping into the dawn. The night had been long, the battle fierce, but together, they had faced it and come out stronger. And now, with the threat of Lance finally behind them, they could begin to rebuild—free from the shadows of the past.
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