Ethan:
The moment I stepped away from her door, I tried to ignore it.
Her voice.
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"Ethan!"
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It echoed down the corridor, sharp, desperate, filled with something that refused to stay quiet.
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I kept walking.
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"You can't keep me here!"
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My jaw tightened.
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"Open the door!"
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I stopped.
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For a second—
Just one second—
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I closed my eyes.
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"…Damn it," I muttered under my breath.
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I turned back.
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My steps were faster this time.
Heavier.
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The guards straightened immediately when they saw me, stepping aside without a word.
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Her voice didn't stop.
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"Ethan!"
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I unlocked the door.
Opened it.
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And walked in.
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She turned instantly.
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Her eyes were red.
Her breathing uneven.
Her entire presence burning with frustration and hurt.
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But I didn't say anything.
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I closed the door behind me.
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The sound of it shutting again—
Felt louder this time.
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She stepped toward me.
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"Why are you doing this?!" she demanded, her voice shaking. "You can't just lock me up like I'm—"
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I didn't let her finish.
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I moved forward—
Fast.
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My hand caught her wrist, pulling her toward me before she could react.
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And then—
I kissed her.
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Hard.
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Not gentle.
Not asking.
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The impact of it stole her breath, her words cutting off instantly as my lips crashed against hers. There was nothing soft in it—only tension, anger, something deeper I couldn't even put into words.
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She tried to push me back.
I felt it.
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But I didn't move.
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My grip tightened slightly, holding her in place as the kiss deepened, rough and overwhelming, like I was trying to silence everything she was saying without letting her speak.
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Because if she kept talking—
I might lose control in a different way.
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Her hands pressed against my chest again.
Stronger this time.
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"Ethan—" she tried to speak against my lips.
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But I didn't stop immediately.
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Not until I felt the resistance shift—
Not into anger—
But into something else.
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Then—
I pulled back.
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Just enough.
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Our faces still close.
Our breaths uneven.
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I looked at her.
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My eyes weren't calm.
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They weren't soft either.
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They were dark.
Sharp.
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Dangerous.
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Because everything I was holding back—
Was right there.
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"You don't listen," I said quietly.
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My voice was low.
Controlled.
But tight.
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"You don't think."
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Her lips parted slightly, still trying to catch her breath.
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"You just act," I continued. "You walk into things you don't understand and expect everything to be fine."
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My grip on her wrist loosened slightly—
But I didn't let go completely.
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"You think this is something you can just be part of because you want to?" I asked.
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She looked at me—
Hurt.
Angry.
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"I'm not weak," she said.
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"I didn't say you were," I replied immediately.
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A pause.
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"But you're not ready."
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Silence.
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The words hit.
I saw it.
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"And until you are," I added, my voice dropping slightly,
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"You stay here."
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Her expression changed again.
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"You can't decide that for me," she said.
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"I already did."
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Another silence.
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Heavy.
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Unresolved.
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I finally let go of her wrist.
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Stepping back.
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Creating distance again.
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Because staying any closer—
Would make things worse.
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For both of us.
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My gaze stayed on her for a second longer.
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Then I turned.
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Walked to the door.
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Paused.
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"…Stop fighting me on this," I said without turning back.
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My voice was quieter now.
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"Just this once."
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I didn't wait for her answer.
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I opened the door.
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And walked out again.
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Leaving her behind—
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But this time—
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It didn't feel like I was the only one holding something back.
I didn't go back to her door again.
Not this time.
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Because if I did—
I wouldn't leave.
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So I buried myself in something else.
Something I understood.
Something I could control.
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Work.
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The table in front of me was no longer clean.
It was chaos.
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Files spread open.
Maps marked and re-marked.
Routes circled, crossed, rewritten.
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Every possible entry point into that warehouse.
Every possible escape route.
Every possible mistake—
Eliminated.
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My fingers moved across the papers, marking another position, calculating angles, distances, time gaps. The board in front of me was filled now—lines connecting locations, names written and rewritten, Viktor, Alejandro, their men, their patterns.
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"They won't repeat the same formation," I muttered to myself.
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Because if I could see it—
So could they.
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I grabbed another file, flipping it open, scanning quickly.
Weapons inventory.
Guard rotations.
Communication signals.
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"They'll increase outer perimeter first," I continued under my breath. "Snipers on higher ground… hidden units inside."
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My jaw tightened.
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"Good," I whispered.
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Let them prepare.
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It would only make their fall harder.
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The hours passed.
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I didn't notice when evening turned into night.
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Didn't notice when the lights dimmed slightly around the base.
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Didn't notice anything—
Except the plan.
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Everything around me blurred into one purpose.
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End this.
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End them.
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The room grew quieter as time passed, most of the men stepping out after completing their tasks. Even Luca had left at some point to check the outer security again.
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But I stayed.
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Standing.
Thinking.
Planning.
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The board was filled now.
The table covered.
Even the floor had scattered papers near my feet.
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But it still didn't feel complete.
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Because something—
Still felt off.
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I leaned slightly forward, both hands pressing against the table as I stared at the map again.
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"Where would you hide…" I murmured.
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Not as Ethan.
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But as Alejandro.
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What would he do next?
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My eyes moved slowly across the layout again.
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Then paused.
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"…There."
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A secondary structure.
Smaller.
Less obvious.
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"Backup position," I said quietly.
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A faint smirk touched my lips.
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"Found you."
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A soft knock on the door broke my focus.
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I straightened slightly.
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"Come in."
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The door opened carefully.
A maid stepped inside, her posture respectful, careful not to disturb anything.
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"Sir…" she said softly.
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I didn't look at her immediately.
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"What is it?"
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"Dinner…" she hesitated slightly. "For Miss Yuna."
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My hand paused over the paper.
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For a second—
Everything else faded.
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Then I exhaled slowly.
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"…Take it to her."
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The maid nodded.
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But didn't move yet.
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"She hasn't eaten since afternoon," she added carefully.
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My jaw tightened slightly.
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I didn't respond right away.
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Because that wasn't information I needed.
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But it still—
Stayed.
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"…Make sure she eats," I said finally, my voice controlled again.
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"Yes, sir."
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The maid left quietly.
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The door closed again.
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Silence returned.
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But this time—
It wasn't the same.
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Because even as I looked back at the map—
Even as I tried to focus—
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A part of my mind had already shifted.
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Back to her.
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Locked in that room.
Alone.
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I clenched my jaw again, forcing my eyes back to the board.
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"Focus," I muttered.
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This wasn't the time.
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This wasn't the place.
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But no matter how much I tried—
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The thought stayed.
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And it didn't leave.
"We move tomorrow."
My voice cut through the silence of the room, firm and final.
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Kai looked up from the screen. Luca straightened slightly. The air shifted instantly—this wasn't planning anymore.
This was execution.
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"No more waiting," I continued, my eyes fixed on the map. "They're injured, they're regrouping, and they think they have time."
A cold pause.
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"They don't."
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I tapped the location marked on the board.
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"We strike before sunrise. Low visibility. Minimal movement outside. We go in fast, hit hard, and finish it before they even understand what's happening."
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Luca nodded slowly.
"Direct attack?"
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"Controlled chaos," I replied. "Kai, you take the outer perimeter—cut off exits, no one gets out. Luca, you're with me. We go straight inside."
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Kai responded immediately. "Done."
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"Charlie stays on standby with extraction," I added. "If anything goes wrong, we don't hesitate—we pull out and reset."
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I looked at both of them.
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"But listen carefully—this doesn't fail."
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Silence.
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"Viktor and Alejandro end tomorrow," I said, my voice dropping lower. "No second chances. No loose ends."
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Luca cracked his knuckles slightly, tension turning into focus.
"Understood."
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Kai gave a short nod.
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I stepped back from the table, my gaze hard, unwavering.
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"We finish this," I said.
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And this time—
I meant it.