Ethan Sullivan's eyes darkened with barely restrained fury.
"Even basic commands can be interfered with. Your equipment is truly pathetic."
His voice was ice.
"Take them alive."
Ian Watson moved forward with his team.
The kidnapper's bomb had been disabled, his gun emptied of bullets. With Emma Sullivan safely rescued, the threat was neutralized.
The little girl, overwhelmed by terror, collapsed unconscious after her tearful outburst.
Ethan knelt to gather Emma into his arms.
As the car door opened, Sophia Sullivan leaned out, fingers tapping lightly against her laptop case.
"Mr. Sullivan, I promised to keep her safe."
She stepped smoothly from the vehicle and took the unconscious child from him.
With gentle care, Sophia settled Emma into the backseat.
"Emma spoke today."
Her fingers brushed the girl's burning forehead.
The fever was alarmingly high.
Sophia's brow furrowed.
"She's burning up."
Before she could say more, the surrounded kidnapper suddenly lunged.
The man hurled his useless remote into the sea and made a desperate dive for the water.
Ian's team barely had time to react.
Like a ragdoll, the kidnapper was flung back onto the shore, howling as he clutched his head.
Ian Gallagher emerged from the waves, rolling his shoulders.
"You're too slow."
He tossed the man to Ian Watson and strode toward Sophia.
"How'd I do?"
The blond doctor leaned against the car door with a wink, utterly ignoring Ethan's plummeting mood.
"Following you always leads to excitement..."
Sophia wasn't in the mood for banter.
Her expression was grave.
"Emma's unconscious with high fever. She needs immediate treatment."
Ian's smile vanished.
He pressed a hand to the child's forehead.
"Severe emotional distress triggered this."
Watching Ethan and Sophia's tense faces, Ian couldn't help noticing how much they resembled worried parents.
His voice softened.
"But the fact that Emma could cry—even speak—means her trauma is healing."
No one had expected this ordeal to accidentally cure Emma's mutism.
The cost had simply been too high.
Ethan still had a bullet lodged in his shoulder.
"After fever reducers and rest, she'll gradually regain normal speech."
Ian turned to Ethan.
"That shoulder needs urgent attention to prevent infection."
As a doctor, professionalism came first.
Only then did Sophia notice Ethan's injury.
The black suit hid the bloodstains well.
During the fight, splattered blood had thoroughly soaked the fabric.
"Let Ian treat your wound. Ian Watson and I will handle the cleanup."
Sophia met Ethan's strained gaze.
"If you collapse, who will care for Emma?"
Ethan gave a pale nod.
His murderous glare swept over the bound kidnapper in the trunk.
"Let Ian Watson deal with the dirty work."
His voice scraped like gravel.
"I'll make him beg for death."
No one touched what was his.
The mastermind would pay dearly.
Ian blinked in surprise.
After weeks of working together, he'd only seen Ethan's cold yet principled side.
This bloodthirsty streak was unexpected.
Suddenly, rumors of the Sullivan heir's brutality resurfaced in his mind.
Whispers of a mafia boss's head once hung from a tree branch.
Adjusting his glasses, Ian felt no fear—only curiosity about Sophia's connection to such a man.
A woman who despised complications.
The doctor's lips curved into an easy smile.
"Mr. Sullivan, psychiatry's my specialty, but I know a thing or two about trauma."
Ethan inclined his head.
"Appreciated."
This time, the gratitude held weight.
Ian could have walked away but chose to risk involvement.
"Thank Sophia. She sent the coordinates."
Ian cleaned the wound with practiced hands, his tone layered.
"Her problems are mine."
Ethan said nothing.
He should have known.
Ian Gallagher was born to be his nemesis.