In the face of overwhelming strength, every attempt at a sneaky ambush seemed utterly ridiculous. The most annoying aspect, however, was the enormous spotlight overhead. It darted around, blinding anyone it targeted, making it nearly impossible to see clearly. The abandoned fireworks factory glowed so brightly that even its walls appeared faintly translucent.
Mike, desperate to find Sandra, kept pushing forward. But the relentless spotlight followed his every move, sweeping across the factory floor as more attackers emerged from the shadows, armed and ready. Stephan, though not immune to the harsh light—squinting as it burned his vision—remained calculated and calm. He picked up a metal pipe and hurled it at the spotlight with brutal precision.
The shattering sound echoed loudly as the spotlight exploded into darkness. For a moment, the factory was plunged into shadowy stillness. Then, another light flickered on from a different angle.
"Damn it, this is endless!" Mike muttered in frustration. He reached for the main power switch, but it was useless; the spotlights weren't connected to the factory's power.
Before they could react, the attackers swarmed. More figures rushed toward Mike and Stephan from every corner of the factory, weapons raised. Stephan shoved Mike forward, his voice calm but firm, "Find Sandra. Leave this to me."
Mike didn't hesitate. Despite the chaos, he charged ahead, faintly hearing Sandra crying from the second floor. Meanwhile, chaos erupted on the ground floor. Stephan's combat skills were terrifying; every move lethal, every strike calculated to prevent anyone from blocking Mike's path.
"Go to hell!"
One attacker lunged, but Stephan caught him by the throat. His dark eyes, deep and cold as the sea, exuded a chilling menace that froze the man in place. With a sharp twist, a sickening crack sounded. The attacker's head lolled to the side, terror etched on his face, before his body collapsed lifelessly.
Outside, headlights cut through the darkness as a fleet of cars roared to a stop. Stephan's reinforcements had arrived. The Russell family's well-trained men moved precisely around the factory, ensuring no one could escape. While some secured the perimeter, the rest flooded into the factory. Stephan had already dealt with most of the attackers inside, but his men swiftly took control of the remaining chaos.
"Mr. Russell," one of his men called out.
"Search every corner. Don't miss a single spot," Stephan ordered, taking a bandaged hand and wiping the blood—not his own—from his hands.
"Understood!"
The men dispersed quickly. Finding a two-year-old in such a vast place wouldn't be easy. Stephan headed toward the stairs leading to the second floor, his stride steady. Then, pausing, he asked, "Is Felicia still in the car?"
The man hesitated before answering, "Felicia? No, Mr. Russell. When we arrived, the car was empty. We didn't see her inside."
Stephan stopped and turned sharply. His piercing gaze sent a shiver down the man's spine. Before entering the factory, Stephan had told Felicia to stay in the car. Now, she was gone. Had she left on her own, or had someone taken her? His expression darkened instantly.
Before he could speak, the sound of a scuffle erupted from upstairs.