Shen Zihao hadn't left the house in days, holed up behind locked doors and drawn curtains, growing more paranoid by the hour. But today he emerged just after dawn, moving with a clear, sudden purpose the surveillance team hadn't seen from him in over a week.
He wasn't alone. Ren Hao stumbled beside him, barely upright, weak and unsteady, one arm gripped tight enough to bruise.
The watchers stationed outside relayed the sighting immediately, a second team already mobilizing before Shen Zihao's car had fully pulled out of the driveway. They tracked him across the city, keeping careful distance, until the car finally stopped outside an abandoned warehouse on the industrial edge of town, rusted signage barely legible above the entrance.
Inside, Shen Zihao chained Ren Hao to a support beam, the metal biting into his already-raw wrists before he taped his mouth shut. He crouched in front of him, tilting his head, something darkly possessive curling at the edges of his smile.
