“I’m going to kill you for scaring me like that,” Cassandra said as I helped her into my car, and there was almost a smile in her voice. Almost. Not quite. Her hands were still shaking as she buckled herself in, and I realized she was in shock. The adrenaline was wearing off, leaving behind the terrible clarity of what she’d just done.
“Get in line,” I replied, and I meant it because she had every right to be angry. Every right to demand answers and promises and a future that wasn’t built on lies and blood.
But as I drove us back through the city, back toward home and whatever consequences were waiting, I reached over and placed my hand where our child was growing. She took it and intertwined our fingers, squeezing once, hard enough that I felt it in my bones.
“He’s gone now,” she whispered. “It’s over.”
“It’s over,” I confirmed, though we both knew that wasn’t entirely true. There would be conversations with Rafael. There would be explanations to give. There would be people who wanted answers about what’d happened in that warehouse. But those were tomorrow’s problems.
Tonight, all that mattered was that we were alive. That our child was safe. That the man who’d tried to destroy us was finally silenced.
I drove my wife home. The city passed by outside the windows, lights blurring into ribbons of gold and white. She leaned against the door, watching me with those dark eyes that had seen too much, survived too much.
“Thank you,” she said quietly. “For fighting for us.”
“Always,” I told her. “I’ll always fight for you.”
Vance Donovan died in an abandoned warehouse in Chicago, bleeding out from a bullet fired by the woman he’d tried to turn into a weapon. He died alone except for the ghosts of his own revenge. He died knowing that his hatred wasn’t strong enough. That love—real, terrifying, messy love—had won out in the end.
I drove my wife home. To our future. To the child we were going to raise together. To a life that was no longer built on secrets and half-truths, but on the simple, devastating fact that I would burn the world down to keep her safe.
That was what I’d become.
That was what love had made me.
And as I pulled into the driveway of my place, as I helped Cassandra out of the car and walked her inside, I made a silent promise to that unborn child. He’d never know the weight of this night. He’d never have to understand the cost of his parents’ survival. We’d raise him in a world where love wasn’t a weapon. Where family wasn’t something to fight for—it was something that was already won.
That was the world we were building for him now. One where the monsters finally lost.
Chapter 24 – Cassandra
My hands trembled as I held the gun, my finger still resting against the trigger, and I watched Vance stagger backward. Blood poured between his fingers where the bullet had torn through him, and his face contorted into something that barely resembled human.
He was still breathing. Still conscious. Still fighting against the inevitable.
I watched him suffer, and I felt nothing. No satisfaction. No remorse. Just a hollow clarity that felt like standing at the edge of a cliff in the dark.
The shot echoed through the warehouse, and in that moment, Drew crossed the distance between us and pulled me against him, careful, so careful because I was carrying our child and he couldn’t risk anything happening to either of us. I was shaking in his arms, the gun falling from my hands and clattering against the concrete, and I realized I was crying. Cassandra, who I’d never seen cry except that one night when everything broke open, was falling apart in his arms.
“How did you—” Drew started to ask, but his voice broke. He was covered in blood. Not all of it his. Some of it Vance’s. Some of it his men’s. He was seeing me like this—seeing what I’d done.
“I called Kirill,” I said against his chest, my hands gripping his jacket like it was the only thing keeping me from drowning. “Made him tell me where you were. He didn’t want to, but I convinced him that I’d follow you anyway, with or without his help. Better he knew where I was so he could track me. Better he knew I was coming here than have me disappear into the night with no backup.”
I pulled back just far enough to look at him, and my eyes were fierce. Protective. Raw with emotion I usually kept lockedaway behind that sharp exterior. “You think I’m just going to let you walk into something like this alone? You think I don’t know what that does to you? I can see it, Drew. I can see what you become when you fight for us. I can see what you’re willing to sacrifice.”
Behind us, Vance made a wet, gurgling sound. The sound of a man drowning in his own blood. The sound of a life ending in the wrong order, punctured by a bullet meant for someone else. Drew didn’t turn to look. He didn’t care if Vance was still conscious for his own death. Some men didn’t deserve the mercy of his attention.
“We need to move,” Drew told me, keeping me tucked against his side, one hand cradling the back of my head. “Kirill’s people will be here soon. We need to be gone before they arrive.”
I nodded like I’d already expected that. Like I’d already made peace with what it meant to pull a trigger and end someone’s life. Maybe I had. Or maybe I was just learning what Drew had learned a long time ago—that survival required getting your hands dirty sometimes. That love required you to become something darker than you’d ever imagined you could be.
We moved toward the exit, stepping over bodies, stepping over the wreckage of Vance’s revenge. Outside, the Chicago air hit like a blessing. Clean air. Open sky. The warehouse behind us finally getting the silence it’d earned.
“I’m going to kill you for scaring me like that,” I said as Drew helped me into his car, and there was almost a smile in my voice. Almost. Not quite. My hands were still shaking as I buckled myself in, and I realized I was in shock. The adrenaline was wearing off, leaving behind the terrible clarity of what I’d just done.
“Get in line,” Drew replied, and I knew he meant it because I had every right to be angry. Every right to demandanswers and promises and a future that wasn’t built on lies and blood.”
Drew glanced at me, his gray eyes searching my face in the darkness. “You came armed.”
