Part 2: The maid was hiding her bruises in the mob boss’s bathroom, praying he wouldn’t notice—until he walked in, saw her trembling reflection, and suddenly the entire mansion went silent.

Midnight hit Boston with a fierce thunderstorm. Lightning illuminated the dark silhouette of the Beacon Hill estate every few seconds, casting long, demonic shadows across the ruined foyer.

Gabriel stood in the center of his private library. He had discarded his tuxedo jacket, pulling on a black tactical vest, loading magazine after magazine of heavy ammunition into his belt.

Behind him, Noah stood in the doorway, clutching a stuffed bear, tears streaming down his small face.

"Is Gabriel going to bring Harper back?" Noah asked softly, his voice trembling.

Gabriel paused, turning around. He knelt down in front of the young boy, placing his large hand gently on Noah’s small shoulder.

"I am going to bring her back, Noah," Gabriel swore, his voice dead, cold, and absolute.

"I promise you."

Suddenly, the red emergency light on Gabriel’s satellite phone began to flash.

An unknown caller ID illuminated the screen.

Gabriel answered it, pressing the phone to his ear.

"Gabriel," Jean-Luc Moreau’s voice echoed through the receiver over the sound of rain and roaring ocean waves.

"We are at the lighthouse at Black Rock Point. You have thirty minutes to arrive alone. If I see a single one of your men, I drop your precious fiancee into the Atlantic."

In the background, Gabriel heard the distant, muffled scream of Harper’s voice:

"Gabriel, don't come! It's a—"

The call cut out abruptly into static.

A sharp, red laser sight suddenly swept across the dark library window, dotting directly onto Gabriel’s chest.

A single gunshot echoed through the storm outside, shattering the glass frame!

Gabriel grabbed Noah, diving onto the hardwood floor as darkness engulfed the mansion.