The air inside the mall was thick with fear. Shallow, panicked breaths filled the dimly lit space where dozens of hostages huddled together, their backs pressed against the cool tile floor. The lights flickered, casting long, eerie shadows against the sleek storefronts.

Sera sat among them, her body heavy with exhaustion, her belly resting in her lap. Her wrists weren’t bound, but the invisible weight of the situation shackled her in place. She could still feel the ghost of Dre’s hands on her—how easily he had controlled her body, how effortlessly he had carried her.

Now, he stood nearby, watching her.

Her heartbeat thrummed dully in her ears as her gaze slowly lifted to the center of the room.

A man stood in front of the hostages.

He was tall, his posture relaxed but commanding. His skin was a warm brown, smooth despite the sharp angles of his face. He wore a fitted black button-up, sleeves rolled up to his forearms, revealing inked veins that coiled like serpents along his muscled arms. His hair was styled in neat locs pulled back into a low ponytail, his beard trimmed with precision. A single gold ring gleamed on his index finger as he flexed his hands slowly, a silent message of control.

This was the leader.

And he was calm.

Too calm.

Sera lowered her gaze, clutching her belly instinctively as his voice sliced through the silence like a blade.

"Listen up," the man said, his voice deep, smooth, and patient. It was the kind of voice that didn’t need to shout to demand attention.

The room fell still.

"You’re all here for a reason. Someone in this mall thought they could play us. Set us up. Now, because of that—this lockdown happened."

Muffled cries from the hostages filled the air, but he ignored them.

"Police won’t be coming. Security? Bought off. You’re all on your own now. So, for your sake, I suggest you do one thing."

His eyes darkened, and his voice lowered.

"Stay. In. Line."

Sera shivered at the weight of his words.

The leader’s gaze flickered across the room, scanning the terrified faces of the innocent. His sharp eyes landed on a group of women—several of them visibly pregnant, their bodies curled protectively around their swollen bellies.

He sighed, rolling his shoulders.

"I’m not a monster," he muttered, rubbing a hand over his jaw. His voice softened, almost lazy. "Women and kids? I don’t got problems with you."

Some of the women whimpered, gripping their bellies tighter.

He exhaled through his nose, muttering, "Tch. Damn shame this happened." Then his expression hardened. "But don’t think that means I’ll go easy. Nobody steps out of line. Got it?"

The hostages nodded frantically.

Satisfied, he turned, his gaze settling on Dre.

Sera’s breath hitched.

For the first time, the leader seemed to really acknowledge her. His sharp eyes flickered between her and Dre, taking in the way Dre stood near her—close, possessive.

A smirk tugged at his lips. "You got a thing for the quiet ones, huh?"

Dre didn’t react, only tilted his head slightly. "She’s mine."

The leader hummed in amusement, eyes flicking over Sera once more before chuckling. "Yours, huh? Fine. Do what you want with her."

Sera’s stomach twisted.

The leader turned back to the hostages. "The rest of you? Keep still. Nobody needs to get hurt—unless you give me a reason."

He pivoted on his heel and disappeared deeper into the mall, his gang following closely behind.

The room was left in tense silence.

Sera felt Dre shift beside her, his large presence impossible to ignore. He didn’t touch her this time, but she could still feel the weight of his attention, like a shadow curling around her.

She didn’t fight. Didn’t move.

She just obeyed.

And for the first time, she realized—she wasn’t just another hostage.

She was his.