Chapter 321

Logan’s POV

The sharp, familiar scent hit me instantly.

“It’s pure,” I confirmed, standing up. “Exactly what it should be.”

The men exchanged relieved glances, but I wasn’t done.

“Now,” I said, my voice low and cold, “take me to the traitors who tried to steal from me.”

The path to the hidden basement was narrow and dimly lit. My men led the way, their footsteps echoing against the cold, concrete walls. The further we descended, the more suffocating the air became—thick with mildew, rust, and the sour stench of fear.

The air grew heavier with each step, and the faint sound of muffled groans reached my ears. It was the kind of sound that made the skin crawl—weak, broken, and barely human.

We entered the room, a grim space lit by a single bulb swinging from the ceiling. Two men were tied to chairs, their heads hanging low. They were battered and bruised, their clothes stained with sweat