Chapter 286

Lucas's POV

I looked up from my computer screen just as Serena turned her head toward me. Her eyes-anxious and troubled at first-widened in shock before suddenly lighting up with hope. Without hesitation, she rushed to my side, her gaze fixed on the face I had managed to identify on my monitor.

Drew and Spencer followed closely behind her, their expressions transforming from disbelief to elation as they looked at my screen.

"Oh God, Luc, you're amazing," she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion. She threw her arms around me in a tight embrace, and seeing her like this-so vulnerable yet so strong-made my heart ache. Serena meant everything to me, and now I was carrying twice the burden of worry.

I gently stroked her hair, keeping my voice low and steady despite the turmoil inside me. "We'll find Milo. Everything will be okay."

I reached for my phone, punching in Miles's number. "Miles, I'm sending you images of our target in disguise. Pull footage from the security cameras at the third exit and follow his trail. Find out where he went and notify me immediately."

As I ended the call, I turned back to the team gathered in my living room. "We need to change our approach. Let's stop analyzing this segment and focus on Rachel's movements after she left Milo's school. We need to determine where they exited the vehicle. That might give us additional clues to their location."

"Once we pinpoint their location," I said, my voice low and measured, "we won't be at a disadvantage during the rescue operation." My mind was already racing through possibilities, assessing risks. "We might even catch Rachel completely off guard."

Serena's POV

The silence was suffocating. Every tick of the clock on the wall felt like a hammer against my skull. I couldn't stop fidgeting with the hem of my blouse, my eyes constantly darting between the other anxious faces in the room. Drew sat motionless on the edge of the sofa, his usual confident demeanor replaced by a grim expression. Spencer paced by the windows, occasionally parting the blinds to peer outside, as if expecting someone to arrive.

Lucas stood perfectly still near the fireplace, one hand gripping the mantel so tightly his knuckles had turned white. The hard lines of his face were set in stone, but I could see the storm raging behind his eyes.

When the phone rang, we all jumped. The sudden noise cut through the tension like a knife. Everyone's eyes flew to Lucas as he pulled his phone. I held my breath, my heartbeat thundering in my ears.

"Miles," Lucas answered, his voice controlled but strained.

I unconsciously bit my lower lip, hoping desperately it was Rachel calling. As terrible as she was, I'd accept any conditions, bear any humiliation, do whatever it took-if only she'd give Milo back to us. My precious little boy...

"Have you found their location?" Lucas asked, and my heart leapt into my throat. I watched him intently, noting how his hand trembled slightly as it gripped the phone.

I couldn't hear Miles's response, but I saw the almost imperceptible change in Lucas's expression-a flash of something that might have been hope.

"Where are they?" Lucas demanded, his voice dropping an octave lower.

As Lucas listened, I found myself holding my breath again, my fingernails digging painfully into my palms. Please let Milo be safe.

"Found him," Lucas said after a moment, making eye contact with me for the first time in hours. "Miles tracked him using the disguise photos. They followed security cameras and calculated his movements. He's in an abandoned warehouse in the South District. Miles says they're keeping their distance to avoid alerting anyone."

"Don't move," Lucas commanded into the phone. "I'm coming right now."

Before he could even end the call, I was on my feet. "I'm coming with you," I declared, my voice leaving no room for argument. This wasn't a request.

Lucas looked at me, gray eyes meeting mine, and nodded once. He turned to Drew and Spencer. "Stay here. If Stella wakes up, don't tell her anything yet. I'll call if we need backup."

The night had fully descended by the time we reached the building's entrance. Three black sedans waited at the curb, with at least ten security personnel in dark suits standing vigilantly beside them. I didn't waste time wondering when Lucas had arranged all this-my mind was consumed with thoughts of Milo.

We slid into the middle car, Lucas directing the driver with a quiet word. As we pulled away from the curb, silence filled the space between us. The city lights streaked past the windows, but inside our vehicle, the darkness felt complete.

I glanced at Lucas, noting his rigid posture and the way his jaw clenched rhythmically. Suddenly, he broke into a coughing fit, one hand flying to his chest. Even in the dim light, I could see how pale he'd become, his skin almost translucent.

My heart ached at the sight. He'd only been released from that hellish detention center days ago, and his body was still recovering from whatever they'd done to him there. If I hadn't been so consumed with worry for Milo, I might have reached out, might have asked if he was alright.

The warehouse district loomed before us, abandoned and eerie in the darkness. Our convoy pulled to a stop a short distance from a dilapidated building. No lights shone from within, only the pale crescent moon providing any illumination to the scene.

Miles approached as soon as we stepped out of the car, his breath forming small clouds in the cold night air.

"Boss, the subject hasn't left the building. I've got people watching all exits, and no one has gone in or out since we located him."

"Has anyone brought anything inside? Food? Supplies?" Lucas asked, his eyes scanning the warehouse's façade.

"Nothing," Miles replied. "And the lights haven't been turned on at all."

Lucas's brow furrowed, and I recognized that look-he was processing information, sensing something wasn't right. "That's strange," he muttered, almost to himself.

Despite his weakened state, Lucas squared his shoulders. "I'm going in. Pick two of your best men to come with me."

Fear gripped me anew. Without thinking, I reached out and grabbed his hand. His fingers felt thinner than I remembered, frailer somehow. If I could, I would have held onto him tightly, preventing him from facing any danger. But our son needed him.

Reluctantly, I released his hand, my eyes meeting his in the moonlight. "Please make sure Stella is safe."

He looked down at me, his gaze softening for just a moment. "I will," he promised.