Chapter 352

Chapter 352:

Stefan checked the bulletproof vest Alexander had insisted he wear. “And me?”

“You’re with me,” Alexander said after a moment’s hesitation. “You know Rose. You’ll recognize any traps she might have set.”

As the teams moved into position, darkness finally fell completely over the forest. Alexander felt time slowing around him. Every second stretched into an eternity, knowing Camille was so close yet still in danger. The command came through his earpiece. “Teams in position.”

Alexander gave the signal. “Execute.”

Ahead in the darkness, the cabin’s windows glowed with warm light, a deceptively peaceful scene in the middle of the forest. From this distance, no one would guess the nightmare unfolding inside.

Alexander moved forward with his team, every sense hyper-alert, every muscle tense. So close now. So close to Camille.

Then a sound cut through the night, an alarm blaring from the cabin. Lights suddenly flooded the surrounding forest, illuminating the approaching teams.

“We’ve been made!” someone shouted through the comms. “Motion sensors in the trees!”

Alexander cursed, abandoning stealth for speed. “Move in! Now!”

Gunfire erupted from the cabin windows. Alexander’s team took cover behind trees and rocks, returning fire with precise bursts.

Through his earpiece, he heard Victoria’s voice from the command vehicle. “Alexander! The thermal signatures are changing. They’re moving Camille!”

Stefan crouched beside him behind a fallen log. “Rose would have an escape route. A contingency plan.”

Before Alexander could respond, an explosion rocked the night, flames erupting from the rear of the cabin where Alpha team had been positioned.

“Alpha team, report!” Alexander shouted into his comm.

Static answered him, then broken voices. “Trap… booby-trapped… two men down…”

Alexander made a split-second decision. “Beta team, with me. Front entrance, now!”

They rushed the cabin, bullets splintering wood around them. Alexander kicked in the front door, gun raised.

The main room stood empty except for an overturned chair with cut ropes lying beside it. Empty.

Camille was gone.

The basement air hung heavy and cold around Camille as she fought to keep her breathing steady. Her wrists burned against the rope that bound her to the metal chair. Four hours had passed since Rose had taken her from their former location to this place—four hours of her sister’s twisted games.

Rose circled her now, bare feet silent on the concrete floor. The room was lit only by the harsh blue glow of laptop screens showing footage of the Plaza Hotel bombing on endless loop.

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