The Ruthless Major General

Who?

I stood motionless, facing the barrel of a gun aimed straight at my chest held by the woman I had once promised my life to.

“Lila…” I said her name with a quiet calm, ignoring the cold weight of the weapon. “You’ve been coughing for a while now. I noticed it the moment you spoke. You’ve been ignoring your treatment again, haven’t you?”

Her brows furrowed. Her hand trembled slightly. But the fury in her voice didn’t waver. “Don’t,” she snapped. “Don’t you dare ask me about my health. Don’t you pretend like you care. You lost that right the moment you vanished.”

I swallowed the sting of her words. “I’ve missed you,” I murmured.

“If you say that again, Aiden, I swear I will pull this trigger.”

The air was thick. The silence between us was louder than any scream.

“Leave,” she spat. “You were dead to us. Stay that way. Don’t come back here ever again.”

Then—

“Mummy?”

A small voice broke the tension like glass shattering on tile.

Lila’s eyes widened. “Aurora,” she said quickly, lowering the gun and shoving it behind her coat just as the girl padded into the room in her nightgown.

I froze.

She was My daughter.

She walked right to where I stood, stopping just inches away from me.

I glanced between the framed photo on the wall and the little girl before me. The resemblance was uncanny. Her eyes... those were Lila’s. But that nose, that was mine.

“Is that…?” My voice was barely a whisper. “Aurora?”

The girl blinked up at me. “Who are you?” she asked innocently, turning to her mother. “Mummy?”

Lila’s face twisted with something between panic and sorrow. “Sweetheart… go back to bed, okay? Come here.”

Aurora didn’t move. “But who is he?”

“I said come,” Lila snapped, more harshly than she meant to.

But then everything shifted. A sharp crack rang through the air.

The window shattered.

Glass sprayed across the room like shards of ice.

Lila screamed and shielded Aurora. I turned as five masked men burst into the house through the broken windows. They carried blunt weapons, hammers, pipes, blades and their eyes had only one target.

My daughter.

I moved before they did.

The first man lunged toward Lila. I grabbed a chair and shattered it against his head. He dropped.

The second swung a pipe toward me, I caught his wrist mid-air and jammed my elbow into his throat. He wheezed and crumpled.

A third tried to come at me from the back, I ducked, swept his legs, and kicked him in the ribs as he hit the floor. He didn’t get up.

Another charged with a hammer. I side-stepped, twisted his arm, and drove my knee into his sternum. The hammer fell. I grabbed it midair and used it to knock out the fifth man before he even got a chance to lift his blade.

In seconds, the room was filled with groans and broken bodies.

I grabbed one of the half-conscious intruders and slammed him against the wall.

“Who sent you?!”

He gritted his teeth. Blood ran down his mouth. “I… I…”

“Talk!” I snarled.

But then I caught movement from the corner of my eye.

One of them was running bolting for the broken window.

I threw the man I was holding aside and dashed after him. He jumped through the window. I followed.

“Who sent you?!” I roared again.

The man turned, pulled out a throwing knife, and launched it at me.

I dodged it. The blade skimmed my cheek and embedded into the doorframe.

By the time I recovered, the masked coward had disappeared into the night.

I wanted to run after them.

But then, I heard a cry behind me.

Aurora.

She was crying, clutching Lila’s dress.

I stopped in my tracks.

No. I couldn’t leave them again. Not now.

I turned back, my breath heaving, I would find whoever did this.

Aurora’s cry was soft at first—fragile and trembling—but it cut through the silence. My chest tightened.

I turned from the broken window and rushed back to her.

She stood in the center of the room, trembling, her small hands balled into fists, tears streaking down her cheeks. Lila knelt beside her, with her arms around her daughter.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. You’re okay. Mummy’s here. Nothing’s going to happen.”

I dropped to one knee in front of them, unsure of what to say or how to touch this moment without breaking it further.

“I need you to take her inside,” I said quietly, my eyes meeting Lila’s. “She shouldn’t be here. Not right now.”

Lila stared at me, her lips parted, her eyes unreadable. There were a thousand things behind her silence, I knew she was angry, and as well scared—but she nodded slowly and stood.

“I’ll sleep here tonight,” I said, standing to full height.

She opened her mouth, but I raised a hand. “Don’t say anything. Not now. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

For a moment, I thought she might argue. But instead, Lila sighed and held Aurora closer.

“Fine,” she whispered. “Just for tonight.”

She turned and carried Aurora toward the hallway. She disappeared into the inner room.

I stood alone in the shattered room, broken glass crunching beneath my boots.

I walked back toward the window.

The night outside was thick with silence, only the distant hum of streetlights and the gentle breeze through the trees breaking the stillness.

I leaned on the cracked frame, gazing into the darkness, my jaw clenched.

Who?

Who in their right mind would dare come for my family and make a move like this, knowing I was home?