Bound to the calloway's heir

DAMIAN. The metallic tang of gun oil lingered in the air of the Atlas basement beneath our downtown HQ that doubled as a fortress when shit hit the fan. I paced the worn carpet, my boots thudding rhythmically, each step a futile attempt to bleed off the frustration boiling inside me. Ava was gone. Every second without her felt like a blade twisting deeper, carving out pieces of me I couldn't afford to lose. Zane sat at the head of the oak table, his broad frame hunched over a laptop, fingers drumming impatiently on the edge. His jaw was set in that unyielding line I knew too well, the one that said he was holding the world together by sheer will. Sienna perched on the arm of his chair, her lithe form pressed close, one hand resting possessively on his shoulder. As Zane's fiancée and co-leader, she was the blade in his shadow, the one who'd orchestrated hits with a smile and expanded our territory through ruthless precision. We had put our differences aside, Zane and I, at least for this. The bruise on my jaw from his earlier punch throbbed as a reminder of our fractured bond, but Ava's disappearance had forged a brittle truce. No more accusations about my "betrayal" with his sister; no more lectures on loyalty. We were brothers in arms again, united by our desperation. Rico hunched over a console in the corner, his fingers flying across keyboards, pulling strings from our network of informants and hackers. The guy's leather jacket creaked as he shifted, his scarred face illuminated by the glow of multiple screens. He had been at it for hours, chasing digital flight manifests from LAX, CCTV from Ava's building, pings from her last known location. Nothing solid yet, just dead ends. "Anything?" I snapped, stopping my pacing to loom over Rico's shoulder. The monitors showed a grid of feeds: Ava's penthouse lobby, empty; Paris airport arrivals, no match for her face in the facial rec scans; her social media, dormant since last night. Rico shook his head, not looking up. "Still digging, boss. Her phone's offline, but I got a hit on a burner signal near her place around the time she vanished. Could be nothing, or a delivery person and a neighbor. Running it through the database now." Frustration clawed at me, I raked a hand through my hair, feeling the stubble on my scalp prickle under my fingers. Ava, my Ava with her fierce laugh and unyielding spirit, was reduced to a puzzle we couldn't solve. I had replayed our last night a thousand times, her body arching under mine. Zane's voice cut through my thoughts. "We'll find her. She's a Calloway too. We are tough as nails." I met his gaze across the table, the ice-blue eyes mirroring Ava's own. "Tough doesn't stop bullets or blades. We need leads, not platitudes." Sienna's hand tightened on Zane's shoulder, "Watch your tone, Damian. We're all on edge, but sniping won't bring her back." She leaned forward, her perfume wafting toward me. "Rico's the best. Give him time." Time. The word mocked me. Every tick of the clock was a step closer to whatever hell Ava was in. I resumed pacing, my mind racing through scenarios. Vanessa's death should have bought us breathing room, but kidnappings didn't happen in vacuums. This felt personal and targeted. Rico's console beeped, and he straightened. "Got something. Partial plate from a van near her building it has no markings. Registered to a shell company. I am tracing ownership now." Zane nodded, his expression granite. "Good. Cross-reference with known associates. Anyone tied to Vanessa." I stopped pacing, leaning against the wall, arms crossed. The cool concrete grounded me, but inside, turmoil churned. Sienna's phone buzzed, and she glanced at it, her lips pressing into a thin line. "Update from our crews. No chatter on Ava yet, but we have talks about a new player moving in after Vanessa's hit." "New player?" I pushed off the wall, "Who? We need names, not rumors." Before she could respond, Zane's phone vibrated on the table, followed by a shrill ring that sliced through the room. He snatched it up, his eyes narrowing at the unknown number. "This could be it." I moved to his side in two strides, close enough to hear every word. Sienna leaned in too, Zane signaled Rico with a sharp gesture "track it" before answering on speaker. "Calloway," Zane said, A distorted voice crackled through, mechanical and ominous, "Zane. Good, you're prompt. We have your sister. Pretty thing, feisty too." Ava was alive, but in their hands. I clenched my fists, forcing silence. Zane's jaw ticked, but his tone remained even. "Proof of life. Now." "Demanding. Fine." A muffled sound followed before Ava's voice. "Zane? I'm okay. Don't..." Cut off. She was alive and fighting. "Satisfied?" the voice continued. "Now, the deal. We want two things. first the drive. The one your fiancée holds dear from her late father. Leverage, they call it. Two, we want a share, a big share of the cartel pie. We want to control territories. Bring it to the coordinates we'll send. Two hours. No tricks or Ava learns what pain really means." The drive. Sienna's old locket flashed in my mind. the silver chain she'd worn since her father's death. The innocuous pendant hiding a micro-drive with encrypted files of cartel secrets, blackmail material, the kind that could topple empires or build new ones. Zane's eyes flicked to Sienna, conflict etching his features. She stiffened, her hand dropping from his shoulder, eyes widening in realization. "You have two hours," the voice repeated. "Tick-tock." The line went dead. Rico's fingers blurred over his keyboard. "Tracing... got a bounce signal routed through proxies, but I pinned the origin. Warehouse district, east side. Abandoned auto plant." Zane stared at the phone, his face a mask cracking at the edges. He stood slowly, turning to Sienna. "The drive..." She shook her head, stepping back. "No. Zane, you know what it is. My father's legacy. It is proof against half the players in this game. Give it up, and we're exposed. Everything crumbles." Zane's shoulders tensed, "It's Ava, Sienna. My sister." "And it's our future!" she shot back, eyes blazing. "The drive keeps us safe. We have it as blackmail on rivals. Should we hand it over, and we're their targets? You think I don't care about Ava? But sacrificing everything?" I couldn't stay silent. "We don't have time for this!" I exploded, slamming a fist on the table. The wood vibrated under the impact. "Ava's out there, tied up, scared, and you're debating? Give them a fake, buy time. Rico traced it, and we hit them hard." Zane rounded on me, his eyes thunderous. "Easy for you to say. You're not the one choosing between family and empire." "Choosing?" I stepped closer, our faces inches apart, heat radiating between us. "Ava is family! The empire means nothing without her. Sienna, give it up. We rebuild. We've done it before." Sienna crossed her arms, her posture defiant. "Rebuild? With what? The drive has dirt on everyone: feds, rivals, and even our allies. It's my insurance, Zane. Mine." Zane ran a hand over his face, the tension visible in the lines etching his brow. "Sienna... please. For Ava." She hesitated, conflict warring in her eyes. "I... can't. Not yet. Let me think." Frustration surged through me like a tide, hot and suffocating. I paced again, faster, my mind spinning. We had just two hours, freaking 120 minutes to save her. Rico's trace was good, but without the drive as bait? Risky. "We don't need the real one," I growled. "Fake it. USB with dummy files. We go in armed, extract her." Zane nodded slowly. "Possible. But if they check..." "They won't have time," I insisted, grabbing a tablet from the table, pulling up schematics of the warehouse. "Rico, pull blueprints. Entry points, blind spots." Rico complied, screens updating with floor plans. "The south entrance is weak. Loading dock. I can loop cams if they are wired." Sienna watched, her resolve cracking. "Fine. Use a dupe. But if this goes south..." "It won't," Zane said, pulling her close. "We get Ava back. Together." I met his gaze, the truce holding by threads. "For Ava," I echoed. The clock ticked on, each second a hammer blow. Hold on, Ava. We're coming.