Midnight warehouse on the east docks smells of salt, rust, and death waiting. Moon hides behind black clouds. Only dim yellow lights from broken bulbs swing overhead. Gang waits inside — ten men, armed heavy, tattoos like warnings. Leader stands center: big scar across face, eyes cold like dead fish. He holds a shotgun loose.

Zane and Shreya walk in together. Zane front, gun raised. Shreya behind, small pistol in shaking hand. Chain collar still around her neck — Zane’s hand holds the end like a leash. Her boobs barely covered by torn shirt, bite marks and bruises show clear. Pussy throbs under jeans, cum from bunker still inside, ass sore from metal rod and dick.