Ethan's POV
The alarm didn't scream.
It pulsed.
Low.
Controlled.
Relentless.
That was how I knew it wasn't chaos, it was intention.
EXTERNAL SECURITY BREACH DETECTED.
PERIMETER COMPROMISED.
LOCKDOWN ACTIVE.
The house didn't panic.
It obeyed.
Steel shutters slid into place with a muted finality. Glass reinforced itself. Corridors narrowed, funnelling movement the way this place was designed to, toward me.
I didn't look at the screen again.
I already knew who it was.
Not Italians.
Not Russians.
Not yet.
This was a test.
And tests are never about winning.
They're about watching how far you're willing to go.
I moved before Raina could speak.
Her fear was loud behind me, sharp breaths, the scrape of her foot against the floor, but I didn't turn. If I looked at her now, I would lose the edge I needed.
And if I lost the edge, she'd lose everything.
I keyed my earpiece.
"Mike."
Static for half a second.
Then his voice, steady despite everything.
"East perimeter. Two signatures. Not armed heavy. They're good."
Of course they were.
"Intent?" I asked.
"They're not here to breach," he growled "They're here to be seen."
My jaw tightened.
Kabir used to say the same thing.
When they want you dead, they don't knock. When they want you scared, they let you see them.
I hated that he was right.
"Lock Raina in," Mike added quietly. "Full isolation."
I stopped walking.
That was the problem.
I didn't want to lock her away anymore.
I turned back.
She was standing exactly where I left her, arms wrapped around herself, eyes wide, but not empty. She was thinking.
Connecting things. Becoming dangerous in her own way.
She always had been.
"Ethan," she whispered. "What's happening?"
I crossed the space between us in three strides and cupped her face before she could step back.
Her skin was warm. Too warm.
Fear does that.
"Listen to me," I said, low and firm. "Nothing is touching you. Not tonight. Not ever."
Her eyes searched mine, desperate for cracks.
She found none.
"But..."
"This house doesn't fall," I said. "And neither do I."
That was the lie I'd been living with since college. Since Kabir. Since the first time I learned that power doesn't come free, it comes with contracts written in blood and silence.
I pressed my forehead to hers for one brief second.
Not a kiss.
Not comfort.
A vow.
Then I stepped back and turned away, because staying any longer would have cost me the war.
"Seal the panic room," I said to the house.
The floor beneath her feet shifted. Soft lights guided her backward. She didn't resist—not because she wasn't afraid, but because she trusted me.
That trust sat in my chest like a loaded weapon.
The door sealed.
And I let the monster breathe.
I moved through the house with memory, not sight. Every turn was familiar. Every shadow accounted for. This place wasn't a home...it was a promise I built with my own hands after I learned what the world does to women like Raina.
I reached the east corridor just as Mike appeared at the junction, his injured shoulder slowing him but not stopping him.
"Visual?" I asked.
He nodded once. "They're standing in the open."
Of course they were.
I stepped into the camera feed.
Two men at the edge of the property line. Hands visible. No masks.
Confidence, not courage.
One of them raised his chin when he saw me.
Recognition flickered.
Good.
"Tell them to leave," Mike said.
"No," I replied. "Open the gate."
He looked at me sharply. "Ethan..."
"They're not here to hurt us," I said. "They're here to see me choose."
The gate slid open.
Cold air rushed in like a held breath finally released.
I walked out alone.
No weapon in my hands.
That always unnerves them more.
The man on the left smiled faintly. "You called."
"I didn't," I said. "But you came anyway."
"You used a word," the other said. His accent was light, almost careless. "That word echoes."
I felt it then...the tug. The old pull. The thing that had followed me since I was twenty-two and stupid enough to believe loyalty could save everyone.
"I know," I said.
"And now?" he asked.
Now.
That was the question, wasn't it?
Behind me was a woman who had already lost one life to secrets.
Above me was a man who had answered with Da and expected payment.
Around me was a world that would always circle what it could not own.
"I don't belong to you," I said.
The man smiled wider. "No."
"No," he agreed. "But you belong to the promise."
There it was.
The thing Kabir warned me about.
The thing I pretended was myth.
I stepped closer—not threatening, not retreating.
"Tell him," I said quietly. "Tell him I'll honor the word."
Both men stilled.
"But," I continued, voice lowering, "the woman stays untouched. Her name doesn't cross your lips. Her shadow doesn't appear in your reports."
A pause.
Then the first man nodded once. "That condition was already… implied."
Good.
"Now leave," I said.
They did.
No flourish. No farewell.
Just disappearance.
The gate sealed behind them.
The night exhaled.
I stood there longer than necessary, letting the weight settle. Letting myself feel what I had just done.
I hadn't taken power.
I had accepted responsibility.
That was worse.
When I went back inside, the house was silent again. Controlled. Obedient.
Mike waited near the corridor.
"It's started," he said.
"I know."
"And Raina?"
I looked toward the panic room, where her presence felt like gravity.
"She's still breathing," I said. "That's all that matters."
For now.
As I walked back toward her, one truth anchored itself deep in my chest:
Kabir didn't die because he was weak.
He died because he tried to play both sides.
I would not make that mistake.
If the world wanted to drag me back into the dark..
I would decide how deep.
And Raina?
She wouldn't be collateral.
She would be the reason I burned every bridge behind me.
Even if she hated me for it.
Even if loving her cost me everything else.
Because some choices don't ask for permission.
They demand commitment.
And tonight, I chose.