The red Aston Martin growls low before quieting, the headlights cutting out after nearly three hours of winding far from the bustling city—through hushed, misted hills.
"Did we arrive?" Neva murmurs, her voice feather-soft as she leans toward the window.
Her eyes glint with quiet curiosity as she takes in the scenery before her: a rustic lodge nestled into the wooded slopes, the walls painted a warm coffee brown, rooflines slanting beneath the weight of ivy.
Roses climb up the porch columns, ruby petals glowing softly under the light of Victorian lanterns. Something about this whole place warms her heart—safe, almost comforting.
"Yeah," Sky says, her tone hushed. "It's a secluded lodge in Eudora. We'll be safe here—at least tonight." Her words dips near the end, almost fading into a whisper.
Neva shudders the moment she follows Rhett out of the car, the cold night air slicing through her lungs. She shrinks into herself, rubbing her hands and blowing foggy warmth over her fingers.
The mingled heat of bodies and engine slips from her skin, leaving only the bite of the mountain wind.
Yet the scent of pine and aged wood drifting from the lodge somehow grounds her—wrapping her in a fragile sense of warmth.
She notices a movement near the trunk—Ace, standing in just a T-shirt, shoulders slightly hunched, his hands buried deep in his jeans pockets. He glances up and catches her gaze, offering a quiet smile.
When Neva returns it with a small smile—his heart stutters, his breath hitching for a beat.
She slips off the jacket draped across her shoulders, folding it neatly before holding it out with both hands. "Thank you. I'm sorry—I got it all wet and mucky."
Ace waves it away, grinning with casual ease. "It's fine. Keep it."
She parts her lips to protest—only for Rhett to pluck the jacket from her grip and fling it squarely into Ace's chest.
"Keep the damned rug to yourself," Rhett mutters, voice clipped, cold.
Ace catches it with practiced reflex—but his grin falters. The jab lands.
"We should get inside," Sky calls, already striding toward the door, her boots crunching softly over snow.
Hunter follows in silence, a shadow behind Sky.
Rhett seizes Neva's hand without glancing back, tugging her along with gentle firmness.
Ace lingers at the rear, a quiet sigh fogging into the night air.
---
A sudden clang of bells slices through the midnight hush, shrill against the lodge's thick wooden walls.
Rhett groans, tangled beneath the sheets with Neva pressed warmly against him, her head nestled in his chest.
She stirs, her lashes fluttering open. "Someone's at the door," she whispers, breath brushing his skin.
Rhett only hums low in reply, unmoving. The bell rings again, sharper, more insistent. He exhales through his nose, annoyance flaring at the edges.
Neva shifts, lifting her head to glance over the breadth of his frame. But as she starts to rise, his arm tightens firmly around her waist, holding her down in the cocoon of blankets.
His eyes are open now—focused, sharp, stripped of sleep. "Stay here."
Sheets rustle as he peels himself from the warmth of the bed. Neva sits upright, her chest tightening, watching every measured move he makes.
Rhett opens the cabinet, retrieving a black pistol capped with a cylindrical suppressor. Barefoot, he glides toward the door—every step silent despite the creaking wood beneath him. His body taut, weapon lifted to head height.
Neva swallows tight, her fists pressed to her chest in a silent prayer, her pulse thundering in her ears.
He leans toward the peephole. A pause—then his stance shifts, his spine lengthening, tension loosening by a fraction.
It's Ace.
Rhett lowers the gun, opening the door—his calm measured.
"What is it?"
Ace's face is shadowed with severity. "Boss, you need to leave. Now."
From the bed, Neva exhales, her shoulders easing at the sound of his voice.
"Raka's men have probably hit the airports already. Flying's off the table." He draws a steady breath, pulling two passports from his coat. "So we got you cruise tickets. To New Zealand. Less traceable."
Frustration flickers behind Rhett's eyes.
He drags a hand down his face, exhaling through his teeth. "What time?"
"Ship leaves at one-fifty," Ace says, then draws a pistachio-green trolley bag before him. "Almost forgot this."
Rhett nods once. "Give us ten."
Ace inclines his head. "We'll be in the car."
He shuts the door and turns.
Neva now stands barefoot near the bed, arms wrapped around herself, the wooden floor cool beneath her barefeet.
Rhett sets the passports on the sheets, the trolley placed at the foot of the bed.
"Are you okay with boats?"
Neva nods faintly. "It's not like I have a choice." Her voice is soft, steady, but her eyes glimmer with ache.
He steps close, brushing a thumb across her cheek.
"We'll get through this." He kisses her forehead, lingering for a beat. "Let's get ready."
---
Ten minutes later, Neva zips her bag shut. She wears a beige flared-sleeve sweater and soft blue jeans, hair pinned loosely, jacket folded over her arm.
The agents had done a quick round of shopping for them—they even managed to find a few necessities for Neva at a store near the lodge.
Neva moves about the room, checking corners as though something vital might slip her memory.
Rhett leans against the foot of the bed, arms crossed, his calm gaze tracing each of her quick, clumsy motions.
His own bag is already packed—a precise arsenal of weapons
"You're wearing just that?" he asks, arching a brow.
Without looking up, Neva lifts the jacket meaningfully.
His lips curve into a soft smile.
Another ten minutes pass before she finally slips it on.
"Let's go," she says, dressed all warm, her neatly packed luggage resting at her side.
Rhett chuckles under his breath. Ten minutes, he'd told Ace. How can he forgot—that he had such a beautiful woman with him now.
"What?" she asks, catching his quiet amusement.
"Nothing." He leans in, kisses her quickly, then steals her bag with one hand—while his other remains wrapped around hers, fingers tangled in warmth.
---
The others are already waiting in the car. Engine humming, headlights cutting across the snow-dusted drive.
No one mentions they're twelve minutes late.
Outside, the world is hushed. Snowflakes drift like whispers in the darkness.
The moonlight catches in patches of ice, silvering the earth—the world glowing faintly in the pale light of moon and lamp-post.
Thirty minutes later, the harbor rises before them.
"The cruise leaves in twenty," Sky announces, checking her watch.
Rhett's gaze sweeps the team. "I'm counting on you to get the capsule back."
All three look up. The last mission had saved lives, but the Ruhd had slipped their grasp. Tonight, his trust falls on them—unspoken but palpable.
"We've got it, Boss," Ace answers.
Neva's voice is soft, earnest. "Thank you—for everything."
Sky smiles warmly. "It's our pleasure."
Then without warning, she pulls Neva into a hug. Neva stiffens, but soon melts into her warmth.
"See you, Neva Mae," Sky whispers.
"See you, Sky," Neva replies, smiling softly.
Sky pulls back, eyes gentle. "My real name's Elfie."
Neva's smiles deepens. "Then see you soon, Elfie."
"I'm Lay," Ace grins, pointing to himself. "And that moody statue's Zac."
Hunter rolls his eyes, unfazed.
Neva laughs lightly. "It was good knowing you all."
Rhett says nothing. He opens the door and steps out, helping Neva out after him.
He circles around to the trunk, pulls out the bags.
Hands intertwined, together, they walk toward the grand silhouette of the cruise ship rising in the night.
Neva glances over her shoulder as the growl of an engine slices through the stinging chill that bites at her bare skin.
The red Aston Martin drifts away, the headlights fading into the fogged darkness of winter.
She turns forward again, cherry lips parting as she breathes in the salty, frost-laced air.
A warm smile touches Neva's lips when Rhett gives her hand a gentle squeeze. And though a new chapter awaits, she steps ahead with a braced heart, serenity slowly seeping into her soul.