That night, Evan had just left the office after finishing overtime. He pulled out his phone, intending to call Sennia—for some reason, ever since the incident at the café, he felt a growing urge to know more about the girl. But before he could hit the call button, a message from an unknown number appeared on his screen.
"Looking for her? Come to Warehouse 17, harbor district. Come alone."
Evan narrowed his eyes. Sennia?
His heart pounded. This was clearly a trap. But if Sennia was truly in danger, he couldn't just sit back and do nothing.
Without hesitation, Evan got into his car and drove to the address mentioned. As he arrived at the harbor area, an eerie gloom enveloped the scene. An old warehouse with peeling paint stood in the darkness, lit only by dim streetlights.
He stepped out of the car cautiously. The only sound was the crashing waves in the distance.
"Sennia!" he called out.
No reply.
But as he stepped further inside, a faint voice, barely audible, reached his ears.
"Uncle... Evan..."
Evan spun toward the voice. And there she was—Sennia, tied to a chair, hands and feet bound, mouth taped shut. Her eyes were wide with fear.
Before Evan could move, the sound of heavy footsteps echoed behind him.
"So, you came after all, Nathaniel Evan."
A burly man stepped out of the shadows, followed by several armed men.
A trap.
Evan quickly assessed the situation. The warehouse was spacious but had only one exit—now guarded by two armed men. Sennia was still tied to the chair, her breath ragged as if she had recently fought back.
The man in front—clearly the leader—twirled a knife casually in his hand.
"I didn't think you'd actually show up. But it seems you do care about this girl."
Evan stood firm, his expression unreadable. "What do you want?"
The man smirked. "I just want to send a message to your father. I want him to know that his mistakes won't go unanswered."
Evan realized something. This wasn't about him—this was about his father. And Sennia was being used as bait because they thought she mattered to Evan.
"If it's my father you have a problem with, why involve her?" he asked coldly.
The man stepped closer, grinning. "Because now I know she does matter to you."
In a flash, the knife was raised toward Sennia's neck. Her eyes widened in terror, her body tense.
Damn it.
Evan needed only a split second to act. He hadn't come unprepared—beneath his blazer, he had something. With one swift motion, he pulled a tactical pen from his pocket and drove it into the man's hand.
The man cursed loudly, dropping the knife. Evan elbowed his face and kicked him backward. Chaos erupted—the other men lunged forward, guns drawn.
Sennia let out a muffled scream behind the tape. Evan had no time. He toppled a wooden table as a barrier and snatched up the fallen knife. Swiftly, he cut the ties on Sennia's wrists.
"When I say run, you run!" he barked.
Sennia nodded frantically.
One of the men pulled the trigger—Evan kicked a chair into him, causing the bullet to fire into the ceiling. The gunshot rang out through the warehouse.
"RUN, SENNIA!"
Though her legs trembled, Sennia bolted toward the door. Evan fought off two others, blocking punches and landing a hard kick into one man's gut.
Then—Whack!
Something heavy struck the back of his head. Evan reeled, vision spinning.
Sennia turned around, eyes widening. "UNCLE EVAN!"
Evan's body collapsed to the floor.
Sennia screamed.
The world tilted for Evan. Heat crept across the back of his head, his vision blurring. He barely saw Sennia near the exit, panic written all over her face.
"Go… now…" he whispered, trying to lift himself up.
But Sennia didn't move. Tears welled in her eyes, but she didn't run.
"I said RUN!" Evan growled, trying to draw the kidnappers' attention.
Their leader, the man Evan had stabbed, chuckled. "Impressive. But your bravery is pointless."
He drew a pistol and aimed it at Evan's head.
Sennia shrieked, "NO!"
The man gave a cold smile. "Too late."
BANG!
Sennia shut her eyes, her body rigid with fear. But there was no sound of a body falling. No splatter of blood.
Slowly, she opened her eyes.
The man stumbled backward, his gun clattering to the floor. The sound of fast-approaching footsteps echoed from outside.
Police.
"FREEZE! HANDS UP!"
Armed officers stormed the warehouse, surrounding the kidnappers. The man who had tried to shoot Evan collapsed, blood seeping from a wound in his shoulder—taken down by one of the cops.
Sennia nearly sobbed with relief as officers secured the assailants. But one thing mattered more now—Evan.
"Uncle Evan!"
She ran to him, kneeling beside his still body. Blood trickled from his temple, but his eyes were still open—barely.
"Don't die, okay? Please don't die..." she begged.
Evan, with the last of his strength, managed a faint smile. "I've... almost died before... You think… this is the first time?"
Tears rolled down Sennia's cheeks. "But I'm not ready to lose you!"
Paramedics rushed in, quickly assessing Evan before placing him on a stretcher. Sennia stood up, clenching her fists.
She looked at the handcuffed kidnappers.
Whoever was behind this… they would pay.
Amid the chaos of officers and medics, Sennia didn't care. She dropped beside Evan and hugged him tightly.
No words.
No care for who saw.
No thought of how cold she'd always acted toward him.
Evan's body was weak, but still warm. His breath still there, though labored.
He stayed silent for a moment, feeling the desperation in her embrace. Then, with effort, he raised a hand and lightly patted her back.
"Don't cry," he whispered faintly.
Sennia shook her head, face buried in his shoulder.
"I'm not crying," she replied, voice trembling.
Evan almost laughed, but he was too weak. "You're lying… I can feel my shirt getting wet."
Sennia didn't answer. She just held him tighter, as if letting go would make him vanish.
Eventually, the medics had to gently separate her so they could load Evan into the ambulance.
She let go, reluctantly.
Sennia wanted to go with him, but a police officer stopped her.
"Sorry, miss. You'll need to come with us to the station to give a statement," the officer said.
Sennia turned to look at Evan, now lying on the stretcher inside the ambulance. He was still conscious, though pale and clearly in pain.
"Evan!"
Evan looked back, his eyes unreadable—exhausted, yet as if trying to reassure her that everything would be alright.
"I've been through worse," he murmured, remembering the accident in 2018.
The ambulance doors closed, and the vehicle pulled away, sirens wailing into the night.
Sennia clenched her fists. She wanted to follow, to make sure Evan was truly okay.
But first, she had to do one thing—answer the police's questions. And more importantly, find out who was really behind all of this.
—
At the police station, Sennia sat in the interview room across from a detective.
"We've gathered some information from the scene," the detective said. "But we need your account. Can you start from the beginning?"
Sennia took a deep breath, trying to calm herself.
"I don't know why I was kidnapped," she admitted. "Suddenly, someone grabbed me and threw me into a car. They thought I was close to Uncle Evan."
"And are you close to him?" the detective asked, eyes sharp.
Sennia hesitated. "Not the way they thought."
The detective jotted something down. "So, how did you escape?"
Sennia bit her lip, recalling the moment. "Uncle Evan came," she said softly. "He saved me. But they... they attacked him."
The detective studied her for a moment before saying, "Mr. Nathaniel Evan gave us a brief statement before being taken to the hospital. He said he believes someone is targeting him, and you were only caught in the crossfire due to a misunderstanding."
Sennia nodded. "Who wants to hurt him?"
"That's what we're trying to find out," the detective replied. "But we have a few leads."
Sennia clenched her fists again. She needed to get to the hospital. She needed to make sure Evan was okay.
—