Chapter 142

**Emilia POV**

Calum lurches forward in his seat, and I press firmly on his shoulders, shoving him back down. “Eat,” I command, gesturing to the hearty breakfast.

“It’s the next hour—my system’s check runs on an hourly security algorithm. I oversee it manually so I don’t miss any anomalies. It’s for our safety,” he explains, his tone even but purposeful.

I can’t argue with that. My fingers tighten on his shoulders, kneading gently as I consider him. “Fine,” I relent, leaning forward so my face aligns with his. “I’ll grab your laptop. You can run your checks here while you eat.”

His gaze flickers with mischief, his voice dropping to a husky murmur. “I’d rather be eating something else.”

A smile tugs at my lips, breaking through despite my resolve. I press a lingering kiss to his temple before slipping away to the bedroom.

As I step into our cabin, I freeze. Hadassah stands hunched over the desk, her fingers flying across the keyboard. My jaw tightens.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” My voice is cold, sharp as a blade.

She doesn’t even flinch, her focus unwavering as she continues typing. “Exactly what it looks like. Not that I owe you an explanation—something you should be used to by now.”

I bristle, my patience fraying at the edges. Sometimes, I really hate her.

Before I can speak again, she closes the specs in one smooth motion and steps back, making a move toward the door. I shift quickly, blocking her path. She stops, her lips curling into a smile—a challenge gleaming in her eyes, daring me to escalate this.

“Something you should be used to is me,” I say, my voice steady but hard.

Her grin widens, cruel in a way that catches me off guard. “Funny,” she says lightly, “Calum’s third girlfriend once said the same thing.”

The words land with precision, sharper than I expect. Her tone is biting, a rare edge to her usual composure. “Look,” she continues, “I don’t get involved in Calum’s… bedroom business unless the girl involved hurts him. Only then do I step in. But for now?” Her fingers rise to toy with the crucifix dangling from her neck. “You serve a purpose, and you’ve proven yourself, and even that I can’t ignore.”

I stiffen at her arrogance, the implication curling in my stomach like a hot coal. “Proven myself?” I echo, my voice a dangerous whisper. “I didn’t realize I needed your approval.”

Her smile doesn’t falter. “You don’t. But make no mistake,” she adds, her tone colder now, the weight of her words deliberate. “If I told Calum to drop you, he’d do it—without so much as a second glance.”

***

We speed toward a private airport, chosen for its minimal surveillance. Even if facial recognition software flags us, by the time it matters, we’ll be long gone. Our aliases are flawless—pristine passports and papers forged with a perfection that ensures they’ll raise no suspicion.

The custom interior of the vehicle has the seats arranged face-to-face. Ellis sits beside me, his expression carved from stone, unyielding and unreadable as always. Across from us, Calum has his laptop balanced on his knees, its screen casting a faint glow on his sharp features. Hadassah leans in close beside him, her gaze fixed on the screen as they murmur and exchange information.

A knot coils in my stomach, twisting into something dark and bitter. Jealousy. Childish, irrational, and impossible to shake. I know—deep down—I know there’s nothing romantic between them. No lingering looks, no unspoken words. I’ve seen it for myself, and yet... I can’t ignore the sway she holds over him. Hadassah isn’t cruel or reckless; her skills in manipulation and deception are finely honed tools she rarely misuses. But if she told him to cut me off, I know he would. No hesitation, no second thoughts.

“Em?”

The sound of his voice snaps me back, the haze lifting from my vision. I find Calum and Hadassah watching me, twin expressions of mild concern etched on their faces.

“You okay?” he presses, his brow furrowing slightly. “You look—”

The car jerks violently, screeching to a halt. I lurch forward, my hands gripping the armrests for balance.

“What the hell?” I snap.

Ellis is already moving, his gun drawn and resting on his thigh, steady and ready. Calum shoves the laptop aside, and we spill out of the vehicle into the dying light of dusk. The road is empty save for the black car blocking our path, parked at an angle that screams intention. Dust kicks up around us as two other vehicles pull in from either side, boxing us in. The dry, desolate intersection feels like a stage set for an ambush.

Doors slam in unison, and armed men spill out, weapons raised, their movements precise and deliberate. Their silent threat hangs heavy in the air, suffocating in its certainty.

From the lead car, a soldier steps forward, opening the back door with crisp efficiency. Out strides Torin, the golden hour casting a devilish glow across his refined features. He’s dressed impeccably, as always, with brown-tinted glasses shielding his eyes from the fading sun.

A sly grin spreads across his face as he surveys the scene, radiating casual arrogance. “I’ll try not to take offense that I wasn’t invited on your little cruise getaway,” he drawls, his voice honeyed with mockery.

“There’s no way you could’ve tracked us,” Calum says in outage more aimed toward himself before then it would mean a failing on his part—something he missed or overlooked.

“Yes, how can I compete with the competency of Calum Taylor?” Torin says with further mock to twist the dagger. “Fortunately, I didn’t have to.” Torin looks at me dead center and grins wickedly. “Good work.”

Calum and Hadassah whirl to glare at me, their eyes blazing with fury and confusion. My pulse spikes, my stomach twisting into knots. I don’t know what he’s talking about—Torin’s accusation is a mystery to me. My protest dies in my throat as the realization crashes over me. Slowly, I turn, dread settling like lead in my veins. Ellis stands behind me, his expression unreadable. No smirk, no sneer—just cold, unflinching apathy. And somehow, that indifference cuts deeper than any smug satisfaction could.

“What is he talking about?” Hadassah’s voice breaks, panic cracking through her usual composure.

Her raw, unguarded hurt lances through him. It’s subtle, fleeting, but I see it: a shadow of guilt that flickers across his face before his mask hardens again, untouched.

“I knew it,” Calum snarls, his voice thick with venom. “I knew he couldn’t be trusted.”

“Ellis!” Hadassah snaps, her tone teetering between desperation and rage. Torin’s grin widens, a mastermind basking in the chaos he’s unleashed.

“Do you know what makes this even more satisfying?” Torin drawls. “The fact that he does care about you. Like me, he’s just another man who couldn’t resist falling under your spell. Some things can’t be faked, which is why none of you saw it coming.” He tilts his head, savoring her anguish. “But, as I once told you, everyone has a price.”

My eyes dart to Hadassah. Her composure shatters in silence—she doesn’t cry, doesn’t break down, but her glassy eyes and trembling chin betray her. She’s barely holding on.

Torin continues, a theatrical edge to his voice. “That price? An early retirement for his entire unit and himself. And let’s face it—he’s earned it.”

Ellis doesn’t flinch. Torin gestures at him, as if presenting a well-trained dog. “Ellis, what’s your tactical advice on what to do with... all these variables?”

“Liabilities,” Ellis corrects, his tone clinical and detached. “If it were me, if my interests were endangered by resources wasted on assets with no value, I’d eliminate them all.”

Torin’s smile sharpens, razor-thin. He points to Hadassah. “Even her?”

“Especially her,” Ellis says coldly. “She compromised your assets, decimated your contingent forces, and drew too much heat—CIA, FBI, even Santos still wants his pound of flesh. Not to mention your deranged brother, sir.”

Torin hums thoughtfully, then shrugs with mock regret. “True. But there’s a reason she’s such a target—her value is extraordinary.” He snaps his fingers and his men begin moving with eerie precision. “Take them all. Hadassah rides with me.”

Before I can react, Ellis grabs my arm, wrenching me backward. Calum lunges toward us, but two armed men restrain him, forcing him to the ground. His eyes blaze with fury, but his struggle is futile.

We’re all shoved into separate vehicles, and to my surprise, Ellis slides into the backseat of mine, trapping me between him and another armed escort. The confinement only fuels my anger.

“You son of a bitch,” I say as unemotionally as I can, refusing to look at him.

He doesn’t hesitate, his voice level and unapologetic. “Commander, you of all people should understand the need to protect your unit. No agency, no government gives a damn about us. My squad was left to rot after our last deployment—no benefits, no support, just a severance package that couldn’t sustain us for a few years, let alone their families.”

His words strike a nerve. I do understand. The system is broken—flawed beyond repair. But understanding doesn’t excuse his choices. His reasoning might sound noble, but the methods? Serving criminals, breaking laws, and betraying moral oaths? It reeks of self-righteousness cloaked in necessity.

The convoy winds through desolate terrain, finally arriving at another fortress. High walls loom around a sprawling estate, the stark isolation of the place amplifying the sense of doom. The cars funnel toward the main manor, sleek black vehicles pooling like dark shadows.

When the car stops, Ellis drags me out, his grip firm but impersonal. A few vehicles away, I catch sight of Calum, his frantic gaze darting wildly until it lands on me. Relief softens his features, a fleeting moment of calm before I’m shoved toward the entrance.

I glance back, searching for him again, but my attention snags on something else—there at the corner of a hedge. A man sprawled on the ground, unmoving. Other guardsmen spot the problem as a cluster of them break off to investigate.

“Wait, something is—”

He shuts me up by shoving me again, and I jerk away to face him stubbornly. Before I can even talk him down. A red dot appears on his forehead.