Chapter 138: The Knight In Shining Armor

Morgan had already returned to the mansion.

Dinner had long been served, but one seat at the table remained conspicuously empty.

They waited for five minutes. Then ten.

Finally, Judy set down her utensils, her patience exhausted.

"She has kept this family waiting long enough."

Judy seized the opportunity.

"See, Mom?" she said with a scoff. "She’s already acting like she’s above everyone else. She’s testing you—seeing how much disrespect you’ll tolerate."

Under normal circumstances, Morgan would have shut Judy down before she could say another word.

Tonight, he didn’t hear a single word she said.

His attention was locked on the notification that had just flashed across his phone.

His expression changed instantly. The warmth drained from his face, replaced by a chilling seriousness.

The emergency alert from Isobel’s smartwatch.

Her GPS location.

A live audio connection.

Morgan shot to his feet so abruptly that his chair scraped harshly across the marble floor.

"Dad. Mom." His voice was low but urgent. "Isobel’s in danger. I have to go."

Without waiting for permission—or another question—he turned and strode out of the dining room.

By the time Leanne and Judy recovered from their shock, the roar of Morgan’s car engine echoed through the estate.

He was already gone.

...

"Jack, call the Aioryx security teams," Morgan ordered as he drove.

"I’ll forward Isobel’s location. We rendezvous there in thirty minutes."

"Yes, Boss."

Jack didn’t waste a second. By the time Morgan hit the highway, encrypted messages had already been dispatched.

Three rapid-response teams.

One sniper unit. A ground assault team and a medical team on standby.

Morgan floored the accelerator.

The city lights became streaks of gold as the speedometer climbed higher and higher.

His phone remained connected to the silent emergency call triggered by Isobel’s smartwatch.

The video was blurry. The watch was not on Isobel’s hand.

But the audio was clear. Every sound that came through the speaker tightened the knot in Morgan’s chest.

A man’s voice broke the silence.

"So... how are you related to Morgan Foster?"

The tone was almost conversational, as though they were making idle small talk instead of interrogating a kidnapping victim.

"I’m... just an employee," Isobel answered quietly.

Morgan pressed his lips into a thin line.

She was terrified. He knew her well enough to hear it in the slight tremor of her voice, no matter how hard she tried to hide it.

His little sister was scared.

Heavy footsteps echoed in the background. Several men were moving around her. Their muffled voices blended together, followed by a burst of laughter that sent a chill down his spine.

Then one voice spoke again.

"We’re just here to have a little fun with you."

The man chuckled.

"After tonight, you won’t be able to seduce a man who doesn’t belong to you."

"I... I didn’t seduce anyone," Isobel said, her voice cracking. "You must have mistaken me for someone else."

Another round of laughter erupted.

Morgan’s grip on the steering wheel tightened until his knuckles turned white. The leather creaked beneath his fingers.

A cold, murderous light settled in his eyes. He couldn’t reach her. He couldn’t stop what was about to happen.

All he could do was listen.

"Did Charlotte send you?" Isobel’s voice sounded certain.

"We don’t know of any Charlotte," another voice replied.

"Hey, she is stalling time. Let’s just have our fun with her, then our job would be done."

It was another voice.

Morgan cursed as floored the accelerator.

"Just how many men were there?" Morgan uttered.

He was scared. Truly scared.

"Lay a hand on her..."

His voice was barely more than a whisper.

"...and I’ll hunt every single one of you down."

The promise wasn’t born of anger.

It was a vow.

And Morgan Foster never broke his promises.

...

Twenty minutes later.

An abandoned warehouse stood alone on the outskirts of the capital, surrounded by rusted shipping containers and overgrown weeds.

Morgan’s car rolled to a silent stop several hundred meters away.

Within moments, black SUVs emerged from different directions, their headlights extinguished long before they reached the rendezvous point.

Nearly two dozen Aoiryx operatives slipped into the darkness with practiced precision.

Jack unfolded a digital tablet.

"Thermal scans confirm eight hostiles inside. Two outside on patrol."

Morgan studied the building.

"How about Isobel?" Morgan’s voice trembled. He wasn’t late was he?

Jack enlarged the floor plan.

"She is at the second floor. Northeast room. She’s alive."

Morgan closed his eyes for the briefest of moments.

A silent breath escaped his lips.

She’s alive.

The words echoed through his mind like a prayer finally answered.

For one fleeting heartbeat, the crushing weight on his chest eased.

Then he opened his eyes. The relief was gone. In its place was something far more terrifying.

His deep brown eyes turned as cold as winter ice, every trace of warmth extinguished. The man who had silently thanked heaven disappeared, replaced by the calculating predator who had built Aioryx into an empire feared by friend and foe alike.

Anyone who laid a hand on Isobel had just signed their own death warrant.

Morgan’s gaze settled on the laptop’s display.

His finger tapped the warehouse blueprint with unwavering precision.

"Team One...you eliminates the perimeter guards."

"Team Two cuts off every exit."

"Sniper team. The moment anyone points a weapon at Isobel..."

He didn’t finish the sentence. He didn’t have to. The sniper nodded once.

"They’re already dead."

Morgan’s gaze settled on the abandoned warehouse looming in the darkness.

From the outside, it looked lifeless—just another forgotten building on the city’s outskirts.

But he knew better.

His men had already confirmed the kidnappers were inside.

The cold night wind stirred the hem of his coat, yet he stood perfectly still, his expression unreadable.

"No mistakes."

His voice was calm.

The kind of quiet command that carried far more weight than a shout ever could.

Every operative around him straightened instinctively.

"They made one unforgivable mistake."

His eyes never left the warehouse.

"They took my sister."

For a long, breathless moment, silence hung over the abandoned compound.

Then the corner of Morgan’s mouth lifted into a smile.

It held no warmth. No amusement. Only the cold promise of retribution.

"Now..."

His voice dropped to a near whisper.

"...they’re about to learn exactly what that mistake costs."

He raised one hand.

The world seemed to hold its breath.

Then—

His hand sliced downward.

The night erupted.

Flashbangs shattered windows in blinding bursts of light. Armed operatives stormed every entrance with ruthless precision. Steel doors buckled under explosive charges, and within seconds the warehouse was filled with shouted commands, gunfire, and the thunder of boots pounding across concrete.

Morgan didn’t move.

He simply watched.

The hunt had begun.