Chapter 13
The confession on the roof hadn't just cleared the air, it had changed the very molecular structure of the Thorne estate.
The "Teacher" and the "King" had been replaced by something far more potent.
In the nights that followed, the roof became their private confessional. Wrapped in a heavy wool coat that Aiden had draped over her shoulders, Anna finally shared the tactical maps of her life.
"The docks in ’24," Aiden said, staring out at the horizon. "I was surrounded. I’d accepted that it was over. Then three shooters dropped in three seconds. That was you?"
"Six hundred yards out," Anna replied, her eyes tracking the perimeter. "I had to lead the shot because of the sea breeze. You almost stepped into my line of fire, Aiden. I nearly had a heart attack."
Aiden let out a low, disbelieving laugh. "And the tire blowouts on the highway? I thought it was road debris."
"It was a .50 caliber sabot round," she corrected with a small, rare smirk. "Debris doesn't punch through reinforced run flats like that."
They sat in silence for a moment, the distance between them closing. For the first time, Aiden didn't see her as a threat to his children’s peace, but as the very foundation of it.
The peace was shattered when word reached the estate, a Valenti cell was tearing through one of Aiden’s distribution hubs.
Driven by a sudden, protective surge of adrenaline, Aiden flatly ignored Anna’s warning to let a tactical team handle the sweep. Instead, he grabbed his jacket and headed for the lead SUV, intent on settling the score himself.
He returned to the estate at 2:00 AM, stumbling through the foyer.
Marcus looked frantic.
"In the med bay. Now," Anna barked. She was already wearing surgical gloves, her face a mask of terrifying calm.
Aiden sat on the edge of the table, his shirt torn open to reveal two jagged, weeping entry wounds, one in the fleshy part of his shoulder, another grazing his ribs. He was lucky, a few inches to the left and he’d be a memory.
"Hold his arm, Marcus," Anna commanded. Her voice wasn't that of a primary school teacher anymore, it was the bark of a field commander.
Marcus moved instinctively, stepping forward to pin Aiden’s shoulder. He watched, mesmerized and disturbed, as Anna picked up a pair of forceps. She didn't hesitate.
Without a flinch at Aiden’s muffled groan, she slid the tool into the wound, her eyes narrowed in total focus. A second later, a mangled slug dropped into the metal tray with a heavy clink.
"You've done this before," Marcus muttered, his eyes darting from the bullet to Anna’s steady hands. "That wasn't a 'first aid' maneuver. That was combat surgery."
Anna didn't look up. She was already threading a curved needle with the kind of speed that suggested she could do it in a blackout.
"The twins are sleeping, Marcus. If your heart rate doesn't drop, you’re going to wake them up. Calm down."
Marcus watched her work, the way she placed the stitches with microscopic precision, the way she didn't even blink when Aiden’s blood stained her knuckles. It was a masterclass in lethality disguised as care.
"I’ve spent ten years in security," Marcus said, his voice low with a newfound respect, and a healthy dose of fear. "I've seen the best medics in the business. None of them move like that. Who are you?"
Anna finally tied off the last suture, snipping the thread with a sharp snap. She looked at Marcus, her gaze cold and piercing.
"I'm the reason you haven't had to bury your boss yet. Now, go clean the SUV. There's blood on the leather, and I don't want the children seeing it in the morning."
Marcus looked at Aiden, who was leaning back, pale but alive. Aiden gave a slight, tired nod. Marcus exhaled, a shaky breath he hadn't realized he was holding. He gave Anna a look that was half salute, half shudder, and backed out of the room.
Once the door clicked shut, Anna turned her fire back to Aiden.
"He's terrified of you now," Aiden murmured, a ghost of a smile on his face despite the pain.
"Good," Anna snapped, dabbing a fresh cloth over his skin. "Maybe he'll be more effective at keeping you inside the car next time. Lean forward. I’m not done scolding you, and I can’t do it properly while you’re bleeding on my shoes."
She worked the antiseptic into his second wound, her touch firm but, for the first time, trailing into a lingering, silent caress.
"You're a nightmare, Anna," Aiden whispered.
"I'm your only hope of waking up from one," she countered, her eyes softening just enough to let him in. "Now, stay still. If you pop a stitch because you're trying to be charming, I’m using a stapler next time."
"You were worried," Aiden noted, his voice strained with pain but laced with a hint of amusement.
"I have spent three years of my life making sure you and those children breathe," she whispered, her voice trembling with a rare, raw emotion. "If you go out there and throw your life away because of a bruised ego, you aren't just disrespecting yourself, you're disrespecting my work."
She leaned in, her forehead nearly touching his, her voice dropping to a dangerous, serrated growl.
"Be more careful next time, Thorne. Or I swear to God, I will add a third bullet hole of my own just to prove a point. And unlike the Valentis, I don't miss the heart."
Aiden let out a dry, pained chuckle, reaching up with his good hand to cup the back of her neck. "At least I know who's coming for me."
For the first time, the Ghost didn't pull away. She stayed in the light, anchored by the man who finally knew exactly who she was.