Ex-husband's Sweetest Revenge.

Let’s get you ready.

THE NEXT DAY….

The training began the next day in a dimly lit warehouse. Marcus, the man who had just revealed my parents’ hidden lives, was now my mentor.

He stood in front of me, his expression serious as he explained what layed ahead. “This is where you’ll learn to harness your potential, Ethan. It’s going to be intense, and you need to give it your all.”

I nodded, feeling a bit excited and nervous. This wasn’t an ordinary training; it felt like I was stepping into a new reality.

“First, we’ll start with combat basics,” he said, leading me to a training area. “You need to defend yourself before tackling any missions.”

We approached a row of training dummies that looked worn but sturdy.

Marcus handed me a pair of gloves. “Put these on. We’ll start with some basic strikes.”

I slipped the gloves on, feeling their weight, this was strange—New.

I watched Marcus demonstrate a series of punches, each movement smooth and precise, the sound of his fist connecting with the dummy echoing in the space. “Now you try,” he said, stepping back.

I squared my shoulders, taking a deep breath, and then I threw my first punch. “Thwack!” The impact reverberated through my arm, and I felt a surge of adrenaline. “Again!” Marcus encouraged, his gaze fixed on me as he walked around me in circles.

I focused on my stance, remembering his advice. I threw another punch, this time following it with a jab. “Thud! Thud!” The sounds filled the room, and I began to find a rhythm, each strike becoming crisper and more controlled.

“Good!” Marcus called out, nodding approvingly. “Keep your stance wide, and remember to breathe.”

As I practiced, I felt the sweat trickle down my forehead, each punch releasing the tension that had built up inside me as I kept punching harder and harder.

After an hour of drills, I was panting, my muscles burning. “You’re a quick learner,” Marcus said, a hint of pride in his voice. “Just like your father. Strong and determined.”

His words sent chills down my spine. The day earlier, I felt like a complete outsider, but in that moment, I felt a sense of belonging, like I was stepping into my father’s legacy, and it filled me with purpose.

“Now we’ll move on to strategy and intelligence gathering, Although you still have more trainings to do,” Marcus said, leading me to another area that looked completely different.

“This is a makeshift command center,” Marcus said, as I glanced at the room filled with monitors and maps. “This is where you’ll learn to think like an operative,” he said, pointing to a large screen that displayed various locations.

As we settled into the command center, I felt curiosity take over me. I was willing to learn—to know….

Marcus pulled up various maps and intelligence reports on the screens, each one more complex than the last. “Understanding your enemy is just as crucial as your physical training,” he began, his tone serious.

He pointed to a map marked with red circles. “These are known locations where the syndicate operates. Each point represents a potential target or safe house. We need to gather intelligence on their movements.”

I leaned in closer, absorbing the details. “How do we do that?” I questioned.

“Surveillance is key,” Marcus explained. “You’ll learn to observe without being seen. We’ll practice using cameras, drones, and even foot patrols to gather information.”

He paused, highlighting several areas on the map, before he continued. “We need to know who’s coming and going, their routines, and any security measures they have in place.”

He switched to another screen displaying a series of scenarios. “Let’s say you’re assigned to gather intel on one of their operations. You’ll need to create a plan. Identify entry and exit points, assess the risks, and determine the best time to act.”

Marcus paused again, letting the information sink in. “You’ll also have to think on your feet. What if your plan fails? You need to have contingencies in place.”

“Like for example, An operative was discovered during a mission. What he did was that he had to quickly adapt. They used a distraction—like a fire alarm—to create chaos and slip away unnoticed.”

“Would that really work?” I asked, intrigued.

“It can, but it requires quick thinking and a good understanding of human behavior. People panic easily. You can use that to your advantage.”

———

Marcus continued, outlining different tactics for evasion and escape. “If you find yourself cornered, remember to use your environment wisely . Look for cover, blend in with crowds, or even use noise to divert attention.” He stated.

He also introduced various techniques for handling confrontations. “If you’re engaged in a physical altercation, aim for vulnerable areas: the eyes, throat, and groin. These are your best chances to escape.”

As he spoke, I took in every word, knowing that each lesson was not just about physical skill but also about mental agility. The risks were high, and I needed to be ready for anything.

————-

Finally, Marcus shifted the discussion to teamwork. “You won’t be alone in this. Understanding how to communicate and coordinate with a partner who should be as good as you are is vital. Whether it’s through hand signals or coded messages, you need to be in sync with your team or a partner .”

“Do you have a team for me?” I asked, but he shook his head.

“No. But we have a partner for you, one who is highly skilled, and can teach you more on your mission,”

“Alright, when I’m I meeting with him or her?” I asked, brow raised in curiosity.

“Right now,” Marcus said, gesturing to the door as I watched the door open, a figure walking in.

My eyes flew open in shock as it landed on My best friend Josh. A smile plastered on his face as he walked in, his posture that of confidence.

He didn’t look like the Josh I knew, he looked totally opposite. Clean, fit and bloody rich. Like he was from an entirely different reality.

But how?….