Mike chased a man up to the iron railing on the second floor. Just as he was about to close the distance, the man, Frank Goode, spun around, perched himself on the railing, and barked, “Don’t come any closer!”

In his arms was a little girl with delicate features, her face pale and frightened—it was Sandra.

“Stay back! If you take one more step, I’ll throw your daughter off!”

Frank, holding Sandra, had a scar running across his forehead. Dressed in a black tank top, his arms were covered in tattoos, and his face was cruel and menacing.

Mike froze, stepping back a few paces and raising his hands in surrender. “Alright, alright, I won’t come closer. Just don’t do anything rash. Let my daughter go, and I promise I won’t go after you.”

Frank sneered, “And what if I have other demands? You gonna agree to those too?”

“Of course!” Mike’s voice was firm. He didn’t care what the terms were, as long as Frank was willing to negotiate. Nothing mattered more than Sandra’s safety.

“Just come down from there. I swear, whatever you ask for, I’ll give it to you,” Mike said, his tone softer now. He was trying to calm the man down.

The railing wasn’t very high, but beneath it was a massive machine, its gears grinding loudly as it operated. If Frank let Sandra go, the consequences would be catastrophic.

Stephan, observing from below, gestured subtly to one of his men. The man slipped away, heading toward the machine to try and shut it down. But there was a problem. The machine didn’t have a visible power switch, and its wiring was hidden deep within the structure, making it nearly impossible to disable quickly.

Realizing the movement below, Frank tightened his grip on Sandra’s neck and shouted, “Tell your people to back off! Get out of here, or don’t blame me for what happens!”

Sandra, barely over two years old, hung limply in his arms. She wasn’t crying or making a sound. She was likely drugged during the hours she had been held captive. The sight of her like this tore at Mike’s heart.

“Stephan!” Mike shouted toward the ground floor. “Tell your men to stand down! Move them out of here!”

Stephan raised his hand, and his men immediately began withdrawing, leaving the factory.

“You fool!” Frank snarled, his eyes locked on Mike. “Move back!”

Mike’s feet felt rooted to the floor. He didn’t want to move, but the threat to Sandra forced him to step back slowly, inch by inch.

Frank smirked mockingly and patted Sandra’s face as he taunted Mike, “Mr. Lawson, did you ever think about this moment when you made it impossible for us to survive?”

Mike’s brows furrowed. He couldn’t recall offending a group like this. Then, something clicked. A month ago, while inspecting a construction site, he fired a group of workers. They’d been harassing a female coworker—and harassment was putting it mildly. It had escalated to physical assault. Mike despised men like that and immediately dismissed everyone involved, including one of the site supervisors.

Frank’s face twisted with anger. “That’s right. I’m that supervisor you fired last month. With just one word, you ruined us. You made it impossible for me and my friends to make a living. Do you think the world is that easy for people like us? Huh? Do you think you can just walk away?”

This was revenge.

Mike’s eyes darkened, and uncontrollable fury surged within him.

“Take it out on me,” he said, his voice cold and sharp. “Leave my daughter out of this.”

“Oh, no. That’s not how I work,” Frank sneered, his tone dripping with malice. “I hate rich bastards like you. Since I can’t touch you, I’ll make do with your daughter. It’s not too much to ask, is it?”

Frank’s smile became sinister as he raised Sandra higher, dangling her over the void. She would fall straight into the roaring machine below if he let go.

Mike’s heart nearly stopped. His eyes turned bloodshot as he lunged forward in a desperate attempt to save her. But the distance was too great, and he wouldn’t make it in time.