Chapter 18
EIGHTEEN
The Extraction Plan
Three days after Merlin's initial call, his phone rings. Tension spikes in the air as he answers. The conversation is brief, nothing more than a few gruff exchanges, but when he hangs up, there's a glimmer of hope in his eyes.
"They're coming. They'll be here tomorrow." The weight in his voice is slightly lifted.
Relief crashes into me, tempered by the anxiety still churning in my gut. "Good. That's... good." I can't shake the nerves coiling tighter. I'm a solo operator, not used to relying on others.
It's... difficult reaching out for help.
The next day dawns clear and cold. I'm up before the sun, restless energy thrumming through my veins. By the time a sleek black SUV pulls up the winding driveway, I'm pacing, practically crawling out of my skin.
Two men emerge from the vehicle. The first commands the space around him.
He has a hulking build, muscles straining against his clothes, and a quiet authority that would make anyone think twice about crossing him.
There's something about the way he moves—deliberate, precise—that tells me he's no stranger to dangerous situations.
But the second man draws the eye. A mountain of a man with a severe expression, shock-white-blonde hair, and piercing blue eyes, he's reminiscent of a Norse god—Thor incarnate. My fingers itch to paint him, immortalize him on canvas.
"Mr. de Gaulle." The first man extends a hand with a firm, steady grip. "I'm Sam, head of Guardian HRS. This is Forest Summers, the founder of our organization."
"Thank you for coming." I shake their hands, noting the quiet strength in their grips. "Please, come inside."
As we enter the study, they take in the room with those same keen, assessing gazes. These aren't just hired muscle; they're strategists, calculating every possible angle of the situation.
What do they see when they look at me? A desperate man? A lovesick fool? Or maybe, just maybe, they recognize something familiar—a man willing to move heaven and earth for what matters most.
We settle into the leather chairs around the fireplace. Sam leans forward slightly, clasping his hands as he speaks, his voice calm yet unmistakably authoritative.
"Before we begin, I need to be clear about one thing. Guardian HRS doesn't engage in kidnapping or any non-consensual extractions. Your colleague mentioned extenuating circumstances. If the subject doesn't want to leave—"
"She does." I cut him off, urgency clear in my voice. "Trust me, she wants out."
Sam's attention flicks to Forest, who watches me with an unnerving silence. It's as if he's measuring me, weighing the truth of my words without needing to speak.
A moment of quiet, then Sam claps his hands and moves the conversation forward. "Tell us the details."
I exhale, steadying myself. "Vivianne Faulks is being forced into a marriage she doesn't want.
She's been under her father's control for years, but now it's getting worse.
They've arranged for her to marry Prescott Harrington, but she's unwilling.
She's tried to resist, but her father's a powerful man, and he has ways of making sure she complies.
They've all but imprisoned her within the Faulks estate, cut off her ability to communicate. "
Sam listens intently, his expression unreadable, but his mind is already working through the logistics.
"The estate is heavily fortified." Merlin interjects, tone cautious. "She's under constant surveillance, is never left alone, and has no freedom. Her father's not giving her a choice. She's being manipulated and controlled."
Forest's deep voice rumbles into the conversation, his first words since arriving. "You said she wants to leave. Are you certain of that? This isn't the kind of job we take lightly. If she has doubts, if she's not fully on board—"
"She's sure." My voice is firm. "Vivianne isn't some spoiled girl running away from a wedding.
She's trapped. She's been trying to get out for months, and now she's running out of time.
If we don't move soon, her father will have full control over her life, and she'll be stuck in that marriage for good. "
"What's the estate like? What kind of security are we dealing with?" Sam sits back, his gaze never leaving mine.
I pull out the blueprints of the Faulks estate and lay them across the table. "The Faulks family is wealthy and well-connected. They've invested in top-of-the-line surveillance, armed guards, and a state-of-the-art security system. The estate is a fortress."
"With all the increased security, it's nearly impossible to get in unnoticed." Merlin leans forward. "They're expecting the wedding to go off without a hitch, and they've locked down the estate to keep any unwanted eyes out."
Forest studies the blueprints, arms crossed over his massive chest. "We'll need to disable the security systems and neutralize the guards. Getting in is one thing. Getting out with Vivianne is another."
"First, we need to contact Vivianne and ensure her needs align with yours." Sam leans back, giving me that same intense, calculated stare. "If she doesn't want to be extricated, we won't act."
Frustration bubbles up inside me. "You don't understand. There's no way to reach her. She's locked down. It's impossible."
Sam and Forest exchange a look that says they know something I don't, and I suddenly feel like I'm missing something crucial.
Sam's lips curl into a small, amused smile. "Our people are already in place and attempting contact."
"What?" I blink, caught off guard.
"We don't sit around twiddling our thumbs." Forest's voice is calm but with a hint of snark. "Our team is in the process of confirming whether Vivianne wants out."
"We should have confirmation at any time." Sam leans forward slightly, expression unchanging.
"Their tech is extreme. You're telling me you've bypassed all that without anyone noticing?" Merlin shakes his head, incredulous.
"We're not worried about their tech. We've handled worse. We mean it when we say we can slip in and out unnoticed." Forest shrugs with casual confidence that borders on arrogance.
I pause, stunned by the sudden shift, but relief creeps in around the edges. "And once you've confirmed she's ready to leave?"
"Then we work on the extraction plan." Sam's eyes lock on mine.
I clench my jaw, the need to move forward eating at me, but I can't argue with them. They're professionals, and they've clearly done this before.
"Fine. But don't waste time. She doesn't have much of it."
"We'll get her out." Sam's tone is steady but firm. "But make no mistake—this won't be easy. We'll need every detail you can give us, and you need to trust our methods. There may be things you disagree with."
"Such as?"
Sam leans back, kicking his ankle over his opposite knee with a relaxed confidence that only adds to my growing frustration. "The timing, for one thing."
"What about the timing?" Unease settles like a stone in my chest.
"If she truly wants to get away from her family—for good—then a public extraction is best." Sam's tone is matter-of-fact.
"I don't follow."
"We're looking at removing her during the ceremony." Forest shifts slightly, folding his arms across his chest.
"The wedding?" I leap to my feet, the idea sending a jolt of anger and panic through me. "That's too late. This needs to happen now."
"Think about it." Sam's expression doesn't change, calm as ever.
"There will be hundreds of guests at the wedding—plenty of ways for our team to blend in with the crowd.
You'll have service personnel, caterers, photographers.
.. it's the perfect cover. No one will notice a few extra people slipping in and out. "
"That's your plan? To take her in front of all those people?" Incredulity sharpens my voice.
"If she wants to sever ties with her family, it must be public.
Doing it during the ceremony makes it clear to everyone that she's choosing to leave them.
No questions, no rumors of coercion. If we pull her out in secret, there will always be whispers, always a threat looming over her.
They won't stop coming after her." Forest nods, his gaze sharp, almost brutal.
I swallow hard, the weight of their logic pressing down on me, but I can't shake the urgency gnawing at my gut. "You don't understand... I need her out of there yesterday." I pull away, running a hand through my hair. "And what if something goes wrong? What if they realize what's happening?"
"That's why we're here. To make sure it doesn't go wrong." Sam's eyes are cold and calculating.
"But for this to work, we need every detail. There can't be any surprises once we're inside." Forest's voice is low and hard.
"Is there anything else we need to know?" Sam leans forward, fixing me with a look that leaves no room for ambiguity.
For a split second, I hesitate. The Swan. That damn pendant. But this... this is about getting Vivianne out safely. "No. Nothing that will affect the extraction."
Forest studies me for a moment longer, his piercing blue eyes sharp as ever, then nods. "Good. Because once we're in, we can't afford any surprises."
"We have to trust them. It's the only way." Merlin exhales slowly, his gaze flicking between me and Sam.
I clench my jaw, every instinct screaming at me to act now, but the rational part of me knows they're right. "Fine. We'll do it your way."
"Don't worry. We'll get her out, and when we do, they won't be able to touch her." Sam's lips twitch into the slightest smile.
I glance at Merlin, knowing we've already left out one crucial piece of information: the Swan. That's a complication we'll handle ourselves. While they're liberating Vivianne, Merlin and I will liberate the Swan from the Faulks family for good.
Two weeks. Fourteen days. It feels like an eternity when every second ticks down. No formal wedding date has been announced yet, but it doesn't matter.
The Faulks name carries so much weight within the elite that when the invitations go out, they're not requests—they're commands. People will drop everything to attend the social event of the century. It doesn't matter if they're halfway across the world or in the middle of a crisis.
When the Faulks call, people answer. And as much as it kills me to admit it, Sam and Forest are right.
This needs to be public.
As Sam and Forest dive into the details with Merlin, I slip out onto the balcony. The night air is crisp, biting at my exposed skin. I welcome the cold, let it ground me in the present.
I close my eyes, picturing Vivianne's face. Her brilliant smile, the sparkle in her eyes when she talks about art. The quiet strength that radiates from her very being.
Behind me, the murmur of voices as plans are made and strategies formed. But my mind is already racing ahead, to the moment I'll hold Vivianne in my arms again, to the future we'll build together, free from the shadows of the past.