The old television screen in the corner of Sydney’s secret headquarters flickered, casting a pale blue glow over Kellan’s rigid face. The wound on his abdomen had been neatly dressed with professional medical bandages, but the physical ache there was nothing compared to what he was seeing on the screen."...Military officials have formally confirmed the death of Major Kellan Draik and the entire Raptor Unit in an ambush at the northern border..."The news anchor’s voice was flat, as if the deaths of a dozen of the nation’s finest soldiers were merely a statistical footnote. A photo of Kellan in his full dress uniform appeared on the screen. Gallant, strong-jawed, with eyes full of devotion.Kellan gripped the edge of the iron table until his knuckles turned white. "They didn't even look for our bodies," he hissed."Why search for bodies in a place that’s been leveled by an airstrike?" Sydney emerged from the darkness, sliding a glass of neat whiskey toward him. "Your death is the easi

Kellan slammed the black phone onto the marble table with a restrained violence. The sound of the impact echoed through the silence of the penthouse unit, which felt far too vast for a single person. He had only just woken up, but his breath was already ragged, as if he had just finished a ten-mile sprint through muddy trenches.On the glowing screen, a CCTV angle displayed the front gate of his house. The house he had bought with the bonus from his first mission—the house where he was supposed to grow old.A black SUV was parked there. It belonged to Dwayne Philips."Bastard," Kellan hissed. His hands, covered in scars from parachute cord friction, fumbled in his pocket for a cigarette—a habit he had actually quit since joining the Raptor Unit. Empty. All he found were the keys to a Rolls-Royce that felt foreign between his fingers.He looked back at the screen. The front door opened. Gina stepped out, wearing a thin nightgown layered under an oversized knit cardigan. She looked... b

Thin cigar smoke filled the penthouse as Sydney stood by the balcony, watching the rain lash against the windowpanes. Behind her, Kellan sat on the sofa, though his body betrayed no sense of calm. His eyes repeatedly flicked toward the black phone, which displayed the silhouettes of two people in the living room of his home."You've crossed the line, Sebastian," Sydney’s voice broke the silence. "Sabotaging Dwayne’s construction project is one thing. But asking to 'bring in' Gina now? That’s suicide."Kellan stood up, his stride heavy and fueled by suppressed rage. "Dwayne is starting to play father there, Sydney! I saw him ruffling Leo’s hair. I saw him holding Gina’s hand while she cried. You think I can just sit here and wait for two years?""Our deal was two years to build your power!" Sydney turned, her eyes flashing sharply. "If you take Gina now, how exactly would you do it? Kidnap her? Or show up on her doorstep and say, 'Hi, I’m not dead, sorry for nearly driving you mad with

Kellan sat in the darkest corner of The Gilded Bean coffee shop. Located in the heart of the business district, it was a place where young executives sought caffeine before charging into the battles of the stock market. In front of him, a glass of double espresso sat untouched and stone cold.His mind was still trapped on the balcony of his home. The image of Dwayne tucking Gina in and ruffling Leo’s hair looped like a broken record, agonizing his sanity. His hand, encased in a black leather glove—to hide the rough calluses of a soldier—gripped the edge of the wooden table until it let out a faint creak."Mr. Crowe, you need to stay calm. Your heart rate is reading as unstable on Sydney’s monitoring system," Vane’s voice drifted through a nearly invisible earpiece."Quiet, Vane," Kellan hissed softly. His eyes stared blankly at the street beyond the coffee shop's large glass windows.The rain outside began to subside, leaving behind wet asphalt that reflected the glow of colorful neon