The package arrived with morning coffee and engagement congratulations from people Lily had never met—wrapped in silver paper, tied with black ribbon, beautiful in way that should've triggered every alarm but didn't because happiness made people careless."Another one." Lily set her mug down, reaching for the box with smile that came from spending two days fielding well-wishes. "People are being so generous."Ethan looked up from tablet where he'd been monitoring Victoria's known associates, instinct prickling with warning he couldn't articulate. "Who's it from?""Card says 'anonymous admirer.'" She pulled ribbon loose, paper falling away to reveal velvet case that screamed expensive. "Oh my god, Ethan, look at this."The watch inside was masterpiece—rose gold with diamond markers, brand that started at six figures and went up from there.Lily lifted it from cushion with reverence, metal cool against fingers that were already reaching for clasp."Wait—" Ethan's warning came half-secon

Three days felt like three years when measured in heartbeats that refused to settle.Ethan had memorized every beep from the machines monitoring Lily's vitals, every rhythm that meant stable versus critical, every sound that preceded nurses rushing in with urgency that made his stomach drop.He'd slept in chair beside her bed, showered in hospital bathroom, eaten meals Marcus brought that tasted like cardboard because everything tasted wrong when the woman you loved was unconscious.The doctors said her body was healing, that poison was metabolizing, that brain activity showed normal patterns.But she hadn't opened her eyes.Until she did.The change was subtle—flutter of eyelids, shift in breathing pattern, fingers twitching against sheets in way that suggested consciousness returning from wherever it had been hiding."Lily?" Ethan was on his feet instantly, hand finding hers with desperation he'd stopped trying to hide. "Can you hear me?"Her eyes opened slowly, pupils contracting a

Marcus's hands shook when he typed the coordinates.Small thing. Barely noticeable to anyone who hadn't spent five years watching him coordinate operations with mechanical precision that never wavered.But Ethan noticed."Run that location again." His voice carried edge that made the SUV's atmosphere shift from tense to dangerous.Marcus hesitated—another tell, another crack in facade that had always been flawless."Sir, I—""NOW."Marcus's fingers moved across tablet, pulling up satellite imagery of warehouse district where Harrison had supposedly tracked Victoria's location, where Ryan had supposedly confirmed her presence, where everything was supposedly coming together for final confrontation.Except the thermal readings were wrong.Too many heat signatures for Victoria traveling light. Too organized for trap meant to look improvised. Too perfect for anything except carefully constructed kill box designed by someone who knew exactly how Ghost Protocol operated."Who gave you these

Victoria sat in metal chair, hands secured, door locked, alone in room with man she'd spent months trying to destroy.Ethan didn't threaten. Didn't shout. Didn't do anything except pull up tablet and show her screen after screen of information that made her face go progressively paler."This is Julian Reeves. Your primary financial backer. Arrested three hours ago for money laundering." Next screen. "This is Director Morrison. The FBI agent you bribed. She's being indicted for corruption." Another screen. "This is Senator Blackwood. He provided you with classified information. He's resigned and facing federal charges."He kept scrolling—name after name, ally after ally, each one showing arrest record or indictment or plea agreement that mentioned Victoria Blackwell as co-conspirator."Your offshore accounts? Frozen by international task force that's been building case for six months." More screens showing bank records with red SEIZED stamps. "Your shell companies? Dissolved. Your prop

The jury deliberated for fourteen hours across two days that felt like two decades.Ethan sat in courthouse hallway with Lily's hand locked in his, neither speaking because words felt inadequate for moment that would either validate everything they'd survived or suggest justice was negotiable commodity.Marcus paced nearby, phone silent for once, having exhausted every contact who might have inside information on jury's leanings.Other spectators filled benches—journalists maintaining vigil, legal analysts offering predictions that contradicted each other, Victor's former business associates who'd come to witness fall of man they'd feared for decades.The bailiff emerged at 4:47 PM on second day with announcement that made every conversation stop mid-sentence."Jury has reached verdict."The courtroom filled with urgency that bordered on panic—people scrambling for seats, cameras adjusting angles, prosecution and defense taking positions that would determine rest of Victor Cross's exi