Volume 4: Counterattack from the Edge
Summary: Determined to break Jack, Richard kidnaps Isabella. With no other choice, Jack must risk everything to confront his enemy head-on and save her.
The confrontation at Blue Moon had been a moment of eerie calm before the storm—tense, suffocating, and filled with unspoken threats. Richard had arrived flanked by handpicked enforcers, arrogance dripping from every word, convinced he still held the upper hand. But when his eyes met the cold, hardened stares of Kevin's well-trained men, his bravado deflated like a punctured balloon.
He fixed Jack with a venomous stare—the kind that promised death without a sound. Finally, through clenched teeth, he spat out, "This game has only just begun, Jack. You'll regret this."
Then, defeated but not broken, he turned and left the bar, his entourage trailing behind in silence. The place was left in stunned quiet, the air thick with fear and uncertainty.
Jack felt no relief. He knew better than anyone—men like Richard didn't quit. If brute force failed him, he would resort to something far more sinister. Jack's greatest fear wasn't for himself—it was for those who stood beside him. He had to end this quickly. Every second wasted meant another life in danger.
Back in his shabby apartment, Jack spread out all the evidence on the table like a general preparing for war. Each document, each photograph, was a potential weapon against Richard. He needed a breakthrough—a piece of proof damning enough to destroy the man forever.
Just as he was lost in thought, his phone rang, slicing through the silence.
"Jack! It's bad! Isabella… she's gone!" Kevin's voice trembled with panic.
Jack froze, his breath catching in his throat. "What happened? Tell me everything!"
Kevin spoke fast, nearly incoherent. "She left her apartment this morning and never checked in again. Her phone's off. I sent someone to her place—he found the door forced open, things scattered everywhere. It looks like a struggle. I think it was Richard. I think he took her."
A wave of fury and dread surged through Jack's chest. His knuckles whitened around the phone, bones creaking under pressure. Richard, you bastard. You dared touch her.
"Kevin, now! Spare no resource! Track every move Richard makes. Find his private jet, his yacht, every property he owns. Focus on places he frequents—especially the ones hidden in shadows. Tear the earth apart if you have to, but find her!" His voice was low, guttural, like a wounded beast ready to strike.
After hanging up, Jack forced himself to breathe. Panic wouldn't help. He had to stay sharp. Time was running out. If Richard had taken Isabella, there was no telling what he might do to her.
He moved to the window, staring out at the glittering skyline of New York. The city lights blurred into meaningless noise. All he could see were flashes of Isabella—her smile, her strength, the warmth she brought into his dark world. She had believed in him when no one else did. She had given him hope when he had nothing left. He couldn't lose her. Not now. Not ever.
It was clear—Richard had kidnapped her to lure Jack into a trap. He wanted revenge. He wanted control. And somewhere in that twisted mind of his, he believed Jack would come running.
And he was right.
Even knowing the danger, even knowing it was a trap, Jack had no choice but to walk straight into it—for Isabella, he would face anything.
The next few hours crawled by like an eternity. Jack paced the room, frustration boiling over with every passing minute. He replayed memories of Isabella in his mind, clinging to them like lifelines. She had given him light in his darkest days. He would not let that light be extinguished.
Finally, just before dawn, his phone rang again.
"Jack! We found something! Richard's private jet took off late yesterday afternoon heading toward Saint Lucia in the Caribbean. He owns a heavily guarded estate there. We believe Isabella is being held inside." Kevin's voice was exhausted, yet laced with hope.
Jack exhaled sharply, steadying himself. "Good. Book me a flight. I'm going to Saint Lucia."
"Jack, it's too dangerous! Richard will be waiting for you, traps everywhere. You go alone, you might not come back!" Kevin pleaded.
"There's no time to argue. Isabella's life is on the line. Prepare the plane. I'm leaving now." Jack's tone brooked no argument.
He knew the risks. But he also knew—this fight had long since become personal. Richard had crossed the line. Jack would not leave Isabella to suffer. He would rescue her with his own hands. And then, he would bring Richard to justice.
Hours later, a small private jet slipped silently through the night sky and touched down at a remote airstrip on Saint Lucia Island. Jack stepped out alone, vanishing into the darkness.
The humid tropical air clung to his skin, heavy with salt and sweat. Standing at the edge of a dense jungle, he stared across the moonlit landscape at Richard's sprawling mansion in the distance. Lit up like a fortress, it loomed like a monstrous beast, waiting hungrily for its prey.
Jack knew this mission was a gamble. A one-way trip for most. But he had already made peace with the risks. For Isabella. For justice. For everything he had lost—and everything he had to protect.
Inside the mansion, the atmosphere was tense and militarized. Armed guards patrolled every corridor, while high-tech surveillance systems monitored every inch of the grounds.
In the basement, locked in a dark, damp room, sat Isabella. Her wrists were bound behind her back, tape sealing her lips shut. Her clothes were torn, her hair disheveled, her face pale with fear and defiance.
Richard stood over her, smiling with cruel satisfaction. "Isabella, I imagine you're wondering where Jack is. Don't worry—he'll be here soon. He'll come for you. He always does."
Isabella struggled violently, muffled cries escaping her lips. Her eyes burned with hatred, daring him to touch her again.
"Don't look at me like that," Richard said casually, shrugging. "I simply want Jack to understand what it feels like to lose everything. Of course, if you cooperate—if you convince him to surrender—I might consider sparing your life."
Isabella shook her head furiously, tears brimming in her eyes. She would never betray Jack. Never.
Suddenly, his phone rang.
He answered, listened for a moment, and his expression darkened. "What?! Someone's breached the compound? Find him! Kill him if you have to!"
He hung up, his gaze turning icy. "So Jack came faster than I expected. Perfect. I'll end this myself."
Turning to two of his henchmen, he ordered, "Take her to the living room. I want her there when I greet our guest."
Isabella's heart pounded with fear—but also with hope. Jack was here. He had come for her.
She fought desperately, trying to resist being dragged away, but it was useless. Overpowered, she was hauled roughly into the mansion's grand living room and thrown onto the floor.
Richard lounged on a velvet sofa, sipping whiskey with disturbing ease. "Jack, I know you can hear me. If you don't want Isabella to die, show yourself. Surrender."
His voice echoed through the house via the internal intercom system, reaching every corner—including where Jack now stood, hidden in shadow.
Jack paused, hearing the challenge. He hadn't come to negotiate. He had come to fight.
With a final deep breath, he stepped forward, walking steadily toward the living room.
He knew this would be a battle for survival. But fear had no place in his heart now.
For Isabella. For justice. For vengeance.
He would finish this. Once and for all.