On the other side stood two men, impeccably dressed to blend in with the occasion, their presence cold and efficient.
Between them was a small trolley, and atop it lay a large sack—the very thing they would use to transport Angel.
With swift precision, they carefully placed Angel inside, securing the sack tightly.
The next step was simple.
It was time to take her exactly where they needed her to be.
And nothing—not even Tryson—was going to stop them.
*
Sophia lay sprawled on the cold, hard floor, her once-vibrant complexion now ghostly pale. Her head rested limply against the ground, her face tilted upward toward the ceiling, as if she were gazing at something unseen.
But her eyes remained closed, her body eerily still, her silence deafening.
The air in the dimly lit room grew heavier, thick with an unspoken tension as the men stationed outside—tasked with ensuring everything remained under control—began to exchange uneasy glances.
