Chapter 45

It was early morning and the sun glowed over the vast ocean below, with its surface shimmering like scattered diamonds. The island loomed in the near distance, surrounded by jagged cliffs and thick forest. From above, it looked deceptively serene—like an untouched paradise hidden away from the world.

But Valerian knew better.

There was no sense of peace inside the sleek helicopter that cut through the morning sky. The space was thick with tension and the loud hum of the rotors blended with the steady breathing of the men strapped into their seats. Weapons were locked and loaded, earpieces were secured, and all eyes were trained ahead.

Valerian sat at the front. His silver-grey eyes locked onto the island as it grew larger in the cockpit window. He gripped the armrest of his seat as his fingers curled tightly against the leather. His expression remained stern but beneath the calm exterior, his men knew who he was at that very moment.

“Мы приближаемся.”