Mr. Qin sat in the sleek black sedan, his knuckles white as he clutched the armrest. Ziyu, his trusted driver, navigated the bustling city streets with expert precision, pushing the car to its limits.
They had received Stacy's location, a beacon of hope in the midst of chaos, and every passing second felt like an eternity. As the car screeched to a halt in front of the hotel, Mr. Qin wasted no time.
With a determined stride, Mr. Qin exited the car, flanked by a few of his most loyal bodyguards. The receptionist, trembling with fear at the sight of Mr. Qin's steely gaze, barely managed to compose herself as he approached.
In a voice that brooked no argument, Mr. Qin demanded information. With shaking hands, she pointed them towards the room upstairs.
Mr. Qin stepped into the elevator, his mind racing with a thousand possibilities. As the doors slid open on the designated floor, he paused, steeling himself.