One week later...
I wrapped my arms around my husband, lifting my face to his as our lips met in a slow, lingering kiss. One that tasted like comfort and goodbye, all at once. He hummed softly against my mouth, his hands slipping around my waist, drawing me closer until I could feel the unmistakable press of his hardening length against my lower belly.
I broke into a shy giggle against his lips, my cheeks warming.
He smiled into the kiss, the curve of it soft and familiar.
"I'll be back before you know it," he murmured, his voice low as his forehead rested gently against mine.
I sighed, pulling back just enough to smooth my hands over the front of his suit.
He looked so devastatingly handsome in brand new suit. With his sharp jaw all clean-shaven, hair combed neatly back, he looked more like a polished executive than the brilliant, slightly chaotic software engineer that I married. Just a week ago, to be exact.
"I know," I whispered, leaning into him, pressing my ear to his chest. His steady heartbeat soothing something restless inside me. "I swear I wasn't this needy before. It's probably the baby messing with my emotions."
He chuckled, the sound vibrating through his chest against my cheek. "Then you can be as needy as you want when I get back."
I tilted my head up at him with a soft smile. "I'll hold you to that."
His thumb brushed my lower lip, tender and slow. And for a moment, the world outside our villa didn't exist. It was just the three of us, suspended in the quiet kind of love I never thought I'd get to have.
Then he dipped his head and kissed me one more time. Slow, warm and deliberate. The kind of kiss that said I love you, I'll miss you and I'll always come back, all at once. His hand slid to the back of my neck, thumb tracing my skin like he was memorizing the feel of me before he finally, reluctantly, pulled away.
"I'll call you when I arrive," he whispered.
I nodded, my lips still tingling. "Be safe."
He gave me one last look. Soft, full of something tender that was enough to break me, before stepping out into the driveway.
I stood there, my fingers curling around the edge of the door, watching as he walked into his black SUV, turning back once to give me that heart-aching half-smile. His hand rose to wave my goodbye, before he climbed into his car and drove away, taking my heart along with him.
It wasn't until his car was out of my sight, that I closed the door gently. The click echoing through the living room, settling around me like a weight I wasn't used to anymore. It felt wrong.
The place felt quiet. Too quiet.
And I hated how quickly it made my chest tighten.
I rested my palm on my belly, exhaling slowly.
"It's okay," I murmured, mostly to myself. "He'll be home soon."
But the silence still pressed in. Heavy and wrong. Like I wasn't alone.
If there was one thing my training had drilled into me ever since I could remember, it was never to ignore the shift in the air.
Even after I had left that life behind, even after I had chosen a future that didn't involve blood on my hands, my instincts had never left me. Instead, they sharpened. Refined. Waiting for moments like this. And right now, every nerve in my body was telling me that something was wrong.
My gaze drifted to the small table by my side. The one covered in wedding photos and memories of a life so painfully normal, it almost felt borrowed. To anyone, it was decoration.
But I had placed it there strategically for a reason.
I moved silently, the way I used to. My fingers sliding beneath the table's bottom edge, searching for the tiny pressure point hidden among the grooves of wood. A lock only I could open.
The scanner clicked softly. Too softly for anyone else to notice, but loud enough to echo in my bones. The moment the compartment opened, my hands closed around the gun.
I exhaled slowly, focusing on the familiar weight. Like a past life was greeting me like an old friend I'd once sworn off.
The villa looked untouched. Silent.
My eyes narrowed.
The cushion on the couch was slightly off-center. The curtain near the balcony shifted. Too slowly for the wind. The faintest scent lingering in the air...it wasn't my husband's cologne.
I raised my gun, breath steady and stepped further into the room. Empty or not, someone had been here.
I had barely taken a single step into the living room when the windows behind me exploded.
Glass erupted inward, sending sharp, glittering shards slicing through the air. I dropped into a crouch before the sound fully registered, crawling toward the kitchen as I slid behind the breakfast bar. All while my gun stayed steady in my grip, my breath held tight in my lungs.
A masked man lunged through the broken frame, boots cracking against the floorboards. Two more shadows followed. Then three more slipping in through the back door, straight into the kitchen. I didn't know how many more there were outside.
"Boss wants her alive," the first man said, a voice I didn't recognize.
Then heavier footsteps echoed from the hallway. Reinforcements. Fuck.
I can't fight my way out of this.
They weren't here to rob me, they were here for me.
They've found me.
I rolled away just as one of them lunged over the counter. My elbow hit the tile, gun already rising, and fired two shots. The man jerked back, clutching his shoulder, cursing through his mask. Something about that voice made my blood run cold.
The others rushed at me.
"She's here!" he barked.
I scrambled back, but arms closed around me from behind, yanking me upright.
My grip tightened, then I slammed my elbow into his ribs, hard.
He grunted, loosening for half a second, but it was long enough for me to twist, and kicked off his shin. I fired two more shots at the man closing in from my left.
Then I ran.
My legs carrying me towards the bedroom, where my phone was charging. I had to call him. I had to tell him to come back but he was driving. Still, shots cracked behind me, splintering the doorframe as I drove through the hallway.
I fired blindly over my shoulder. Not stopping, not even thinking, just moving.
Just as my hands met the bedroom door, a hand fisted my hair and yanked.
A sharp cry tore out of my throat as my head snapped back, pain exploding down my spine. My finger jerked on the trigger, and a stray bullet teared through the wall.
"Got her!"
I swung my arm back, trying to aim, get the barrel high enough, but another hand clamped around my wrist, slamming it into the floor. My vision sparked.
Still, I twisted and clawed. Kicked. Anything to break free.
But then, another man crashed into me from the side, sending the both us tumbling.
My back hit the hardwood floor first, then my head.
A white-hot flash swallowed everything. Sound dulled into a thick, underwater hum.
I tried to move. My hand twitching toward my abdomen. An instinct older than thought, but I could already feel warmth spreading beneath my fingers. Sticky. Wet. And red.
Blood pooled beneath me, creeping outward across the floorboards. Fuck. It was so many. Oh no. Please.
I blinked, trying to stay awake. I tried to lift my gun, anything. But everything was already slipping. They're going to take me away.
Voiced blurred. Boots shuffled. Someone was barking an order.
But the last thing I saw before the darkness dragged me under was my own blood, spilling across the floor. Thick, dark and spreading too fast. My vision flickered, catching on the wedding photo sitting on the coffee table across from me. Of us. Laughing like we owned the world.
Before a shadow falling over it. A man. Familiar. Kneeling over me, just as everything went silent.
The house Alex and I built with our love and our light, turning into a war zone in a single breath. My old world crashing violently into my new one. Brutal and merciless.
I had wanted to reach for the frame. For him.
For the life that was slipping through my fingers faster than the blood leaving my body.
I'm sorry, Alex.
I'm so, so sorry.