More ink covered his hands, visible even from a distance. His dark hair was combed back, and his face remained calm and completely unreadable. He looked dangerous in the way a loaded weapon does. His name was Roman, and in certain circles, that name carried enough weight to crush bones. Behind him, the doors of the second SUV opened in perfect sync.
Three fit men stepped out, each in dark suits and ties. They moved with disciplined precision, fanning out instinctively, hands near their concealed holsters, eyes scanning the tree line with the vigilance of seasoned soldiers. They weren’t just bodyguards; they were an extension of Roman’s will. The little girl stumbled toward Roman, her legs finally giving out.
She collapsed a yard from his polished shoes, mud splattering the pavement. Her hands reached out, fingers trembling. “They’ve got my mom in the trees!” she sobbed, the words tumbling out between gasps. “Please, you have to save her! Please!” Roman looked down at her, his expression unchanging.
He didn’t kneel or offer a soft word; he simply studied her with dark eyes that missed nothing. He saw the rope burns circling her thin wrists like cruel bracelets. He saw the way her whole body shook from exhaustion and pure terror. One of his men stepped forward: “Boss?” Roman simply raised a hand.
Silence fell instantly. The girl’s muffled sobs filled the void. “Please,” she whispered, her voice cracking. “She’s still there. They left her. Please!” Roman tilted his head slightly, calculating, reading the situation. The child wasn’t just hysterical; she was deeply traumatized, and he knew the difference.
He had seen enough of both to know the truth when he saw it. His voice was low, controlled, devoid of unnecessary emotion. The girl pointed a shaking hand toward the woods, toward a wall of trees disappearing into a fog so thick it looked solid. “Right there, I ran… I ran so fast!” her voice trailed off.
She slumped forward, her forehead touching the cold asphalt. Roman glanced at his men. No words were needed. The SUV engines cut out one by one, the doors closing with soft, final clicks. The three men formed up around Roman without being told. Their hands were now openly on the weapons hidden beneath their jackets.
Roman looked at the child again. The girl struggled to her feet, swaying dangerously. Roman caught her by the elbow—not gently, but firmly—to steady her. She looked up at him with wide, bloodshot eyes that held more hope than any child should ever have to place in a stranger, especially one like him. “You lead,” Roman said simply. “We follow.”
The girl nodded frantically, turning back toward the woods. She took three steps before her legs buckled again. This time, Roman didn’t wait. He lifted her effortlessly, tucking her against his side with one arm. She weighed almost nothing. “Hold on,” he commanded. It wasn’t a suggestion; it was an order. She wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face in his shoulder.
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