They chained a pregnant woman to the bottom of the swimming pool, but when Daniel tried to save her, his mother closed the lid, causing both of them to drown.

Vicente Castillo was a man utterly consumed by his own ego. The idea that a woman had successfully escaped his multi-million-dollar penthouse without his permission was a profound insult he could not abide. Using his vast resources and illegal tracking software on her abandoned digital footprint, his private investigators managed to trace Isabella’s route to the coastal fishing town.

Two days after Isabella arrived at the safe house, Daniel was back at the harbor, reviewing shipping manifests on the docks.

A sleek, heavily tinted black Range Rover rolled slowly onto the wooden pier, its heavy tires crunching against the salt-stained planks. It parked directly in front of Daniel’s workshop, aggressively blocking the entrance.

Two massive, suited security contractors stepped out of the vehicle, followed by a sharply dressed man in his late thirties. Vicente wore expensive designer sunglasses, a tailored silk suit, and a condescending sneer.

He walked up to Daniel, looking around the rustic boatyard with obvious disgust.

"You must be the local mechanic," Vicente drawled, pulling off his sunglasses. "I’m looking for a girl. Dark hair, mid-twenties. One of my employees tracked a cargo truck she hitched a ride in to this specific harbor. I am willing to offer a ten-thousand-dollar reward for her exact location."

Daniel didn't stop wiping the engine grease from his hands. He leaned casually against a wooden piling, looking the developer up and down.

"I don't know what you're talking about, friend," Daniel replied, his voice a low, warning rumble. "We just fix boats here. We don't traffic in missing persons."

Vicente’s sneer deepened into an ugly scowl. He stepped closer, attempting to use his physical presence to intimidate.

"Don't play games with me, mechanic," Vicente hissed, dropping the polite facade. "Her name is Isabella. She stole highly sensitive property from my estate. If you are hiding her, you are harboring a thief. I can have this entire pathetic, rotting boatyard shut down by the municipal port authority before lunchtime tomorrow."

Daniel actually laughed. It was a cold, humorless sound that caught Vicente completely off guard.

Daniel had faced down his psychopathic mother, survived a drowning attempt orchestrated by a billionaire, and stared into the barrel of a cartel boss's gun. A regional real estate developer in a silk suit was absolutely nothing.

"You're standing on the wrong dock, Vicente," Daniel said, stepping forward. He didn't raise his voice, but the terrifying, apex-predator aura he had inherited from his family flared to life. "I don't care about your money, and I certainly don't care about your municipal connections. Get back in your overpriced car and drive out of my town. If I ever see your face on this pier again, I will personally throw you into the harbor. And my friends in the coast guard will take their sweet time pulling you out."

Vicente stared at Daniel, genuinely unnerved by the absolute, unshakable lack of fear in the mechanic’s eyes. He took a step backward, motioning for his guards to retreat to the vehicle.