Derek Moss had walked into burning buildings two hundred and thirty-seven times. He had never once hesitated at the door.Tonight was no different.The east wing of the Grandview Hotel was fully engulfed. Black smoke poured from the third-floor windows while flames crawled behind the glass. Guests fled past him, coughing and clinging to one another.Derek pulled down his mask, checked his air tank, and went inside.The radio crackled in his ear. Two confirmed victims. Suite 318.He took the stairs two at a time, one hand on the rail, the other gripping his Halligan bar. The smoke thickened with every floor. By the second landing, it had become a solid gray wall. By the third, it was nearly black.He dropped low, moving fast on instinct and training, counting doors along the corridor wall with his fingertips.311. 313. 315.The heat was immense. The carpet had started to melt.318.He drove his boot into the door beside the lock. Once. Twice. The frame splintered and the door swung wide

The slap came before he finished the word "Divorce".Not a dramatic, telegraphed swing, just a sharp, efficient crack across his left cheek. Erin’s ring caught the corner of his mouth, leaving behind a sharp metallic sting.“Don’t.” Her voice was ice. “Don’t you dare.”He looked at her. For one foolish moment, a trace of warmth crept into his heart. Maybe she still loved him deep down?A sigh of relief escaped his lips but the warmth was soon snuffed out by the next thing she said as she opened her mouth."I have the Cambridge Ethics Forum in three weeks. I am the keynote speaker for a panel on modern family values. Do you have any idea what a divorce filing would do to that? To the coverage? To everything we've built?"“Everything you’ve built,” Derek said quietly. “So in the end, this is still about you. Your image. Your career. Your business.”“What else would it be about? Your wounded pride?” Erin sneered. “My work has helped hundreds of vulnerable people. That matters far more tha

After six punishing hours in the back of a fire engine, Derek finally reached hell.Flames towered above the ridgeline, advancing in a rolling orange wall. Pine trees exploded in the heat, each blast cracking like a rifle shot. Above them, smoke devoured the sky until the whole valley burned beneath a blood-red glow.And the air, the air reeked of scorched timber, melted plastic, and something else he could not identify. Only later would he understand that it was the smell of houses, cars, and people.“Derek? Man, Is that you?” A middle-aged firefighter in yellow turnout gear was striding toward him.Rodriguez Hale. Fire chief of Los Vangees County.“Yes, sir.” Derek raised a hand.Rodriguez glanced past him as the rest of the firefighters climbed out.“Where’s Christian?”“Behind us,” Derek said. “His truck broke down. He told us to keep going.”Rodriguez’s expression hardened, but there was no time to dwell on it. He spread a damp, smoke-stained map across the hood of a truck.“The f

For five days, Erin heard nothing from Derek. No calls. No messages. Not even a reply to the texts she had sent. That evening, she stood by the window with her phone clutched in one hand. Beyond the glass, the sky glowed an ominous red, the distant wildfire staining the clouds like blood.Suddenly, a key scraped against the front-door lock. Erin turned sharply, and froze. Derek stood in the doorway. He looked exhausted, his face pale and his clothes rumpled, but he was alive. She crossed the room before she even realized she was moving. “Where have you been?” Her voice broke. “I was so worried. I thought something happened to you.” “I was in the hospital, babe,” Derek said. “But I’m fine now.” His expression softened. “I'm home now.” He pulled her into his arms. The familiar scent. The warmth.The tension inside Erin finally gave way. Derek held her tightly, pressing her face against his chest as relief washed over her. When he lifted her chin and kissed her, she closed her ey

Derek survived. Barely.After the explosion hurled him and the elderly owner of the West estate through the second-floor window, Rodriguez drove them back to the emergency camp like a man possessed.The doctors managed to stabilize Derek, but only just. He had two cracked ribs, burns along his left arm, a deep gash near his temple, significant smoke inhalation, and bruises covering nearly every inch of his body.The doctor ordered him to remain in the recovery tent. But Derek lasted less than twenty minutes.He could no longer fight the fire, but he could still carry supplies. He could still sort equipment. He could still help the medics bandage men whose injuries were worse than his.He had just finished helping a firefighter change the dressing on his shoulder when he stepped outside and saw Erin.His wife on paper. His ex-wife in every way that mattered.At first, he thought the pain medication was playing tricks on him.She looked impossibly out of place among the ash, emergency te