Chapter 27 Ghosts Return with Guns
Ethan
The war room is a chaotic blend of open laptops, maps spread across the table, and weaponry neatly organized like an artist’s arsenal. Tension thickens the air, heavy and suffocating. Every man in this room is ready to burn the world down for Lila. We have the resources; we have the firepower. We just need a target.
And we need it now .
I scrub a hand down my face, my eyes scanning the city maps marked with potential locations Luke might have taken her. Frustration gnaws at my nerves, pressing down like a vice. Every heartbeat feels like a ticking clock, reminding me of the minutes, the hours, that slip away while Lila is missing. The not knowing is the worst part – is she safe? Is she hurt? My stomach twists into knots at the possibilities. My fingers curl into fists, anger and fear a toxic mix coursing through me.
“Where the hell is she?” My voice cuts through the charged atmosphere, laced with urgency.
Bastian meets my gaze, his jaw tight. “We’ve sent out search parties, checking every known associate of Luke's, every safe house we have access to. It’s like they vanished.” He pauses, his expression grim. “The possibility of Kolya’s involvement hangs over this. If he orchestrated this…”
“That’s the problem,” I snap, frustration boiling over. “We can’t just assume . We need proof. We need to find them - Lila and Luke. What if this isn't Kolya? What if Luke took her somewhere else for reasons we don't understand?”
I lean closer to my laptop, pulling up the city surveillance network access. “Forget Kolya for a second. Let’s focus on finding them . What about the city-wide surveillance feeds? We need any sign of Luke’s bike, his car, anything involving either of them since they left.”
“Good idea,” Ryker says, already moving to join me at the tech station, setting up parameters for facial recognition and vehicle tracking. The flicker of desperate hope is palpable as the rest of us cluster around, scanning feeds.
I start fast-forwarding through hours of CCTV footage from cameras covering major routes and areas Luke might frequent, my heart racing with every new frame. The minutes tick by in silence, tension coiling tighter around us.
Suddenly, I still, my finger poised above the mouse. “Wait… let me rewind that. The alley cam behind Blooming Nook… Right there.”
We all lean in closer as the video rewinds, revealing a grainy image of an SUV pulling into the alleyway. I squint at the screen, trying to make out the figures.
“Play it,” Bastian murmurs, his voice low.
The footage resumes, sharpening slightly. The SUV door swings open, and a figure steps out—tall, impeccably dressed, exuding an aura of cold authority. A chill goes down my spine. He exchanges a few quick words with another man who then melts back into the shadows.
Then, my blood runs cold. A motorcycle pulls up to the front of the flower shop, visible just at the edge of the alley cam's frame. I recognize Luke immediately, and behind him… Lila. My heart hammers against my ribs as they dismount. They share a fleeting, tense moment before turning and walking toward the back of the waiting SUV.
Luke opens the back seat door. He gently helps Lila inside. She looks anxious, her eyes darting around, clearly unaware of who waits inside. Luke’s expression is a mask of tension and conflict as he guides her into the seat. I can practically feel the internal battle raging within him as he hesitates, his hand lingering on the door frame.
Finally, with one last, quick glance towards Lila—agonized, regretful?—he steps back. My breath catches as he closes the door with a soft click that echoes like a gunshot in the silence of the war room. He turns, walks swiftly back to his motorcycle, mounts it, and drives away, disappearing from view.
Leaving Lila alone in that SUV with someone.
“Damn it,” I hiss, every muscle in my body tensing. The figure in the alley… the way he stood, the cut of that expensive suit… a horrifying suspicion begins to take root. “Wait a second. Let me pull up Kolya’s file.”
An image of Nikolai Mikhailov flashes onto one of the larger screens—icy blue eyes, dark hair, the faint scar tracing his jawline.
We all stare, comparing the photo to the grainy figure frozen on the CCTV footage. Even with the low resolution, the build is the same, the severe posture unmistakable.
My breath hitches. “I'll zoom in on his face in the video, enhance it if I can.”
The image pixelates then slowly reforms, slightly clearer. The sharp lines of the man’s profile in the alleyway footage match the photograph. The expensive suit. The cold, authoritative stance.
There is no doubt.
“That’s him,” I finally choke out, slamming my fist on the table as the full weight of the realization crashes over me like icy water. “That’s Kolya. He has her.”
The room falls silent, the devastating weight of what we just witness settling over us. Lila isn't just missing; she's in the hands of the one man we fear most.
Bastian’s eyes flick to the timestamp on the CCTV footage. “This was hours ago,” he states, his voice grim. "She’s probably already at his home. Deep inside his territory.”
“Okay,” Bastian says, his voice dangerously calm as he pulls the schematics for Kolya’s estate onto the main screen, the image of the fortress-like compound filling our vision. “The plan changes. This is no longer a search. It’s an extraction from hostile territory. We’re behind, and every second counts.”
My heart pounds against my ribs. She is there, with him, and we are hours behind. The thought is a vice around my chest.
The room buzzes with a new, darker purpose. The previous urgency is still there, but now it is overlaid with a grim determination. We aren’t just chasing; we are preparing for war.
“We need to jam his security feeds before we even think about a breach,” I mutter, my fingers already tracing potential entry points on the schematic displayed before us. “Perimeter, internal sensors, backup generators… Ryker, you’ll take point on disabling their comms and any outward facing surveillance from the west approach. Grim, you and I will—”
A sharp, sudden knock echoes from the main door of the war room.
Every gun in the room is drawn in a fraction of a second, safeties clicking off as we spin towards the sound.
My pulse spikes. No one should be knocking. This is a secure location, our stronghold. No one should be here unannounced. Not without a damn good reason, or a death wish.
Bastian’s jaw is locked tight. Ryker is already moving to the side, gun aimed at the door. Grim, silent as death, positions himself near the back, his rifle steady.
I step forward, gun raised, and crack the door open just enough to get a look.
The past stares right back at me.
Theo.
My breath catches. My world tilts. My grip on the gun tightens reflexively, the cold steel a familiar anchor in a suddenly churning sea of disbelief and a betrayal so profound it steals the air from my lungs. Shock, raw and visceral, slams into me, momentarily short-circuiting thought.
Theo. The name is a brand on my soul, a constant, aching reminder of failure, of a bond shattered by his choices, by my absence. The little brother I left behind, the one I saw in mugshots, in crime reports, in my fucking nightmares, stands there like he hasn't been radio silent for years. As if he hadn't turned his back on everything we were supposed to be. As if he hadn’t just materialized out of the ghosts of my worst regrets at the exact moment my world is imploding over Lila.
I should shoot him on sight. The thought is cold, instinctive, a reaction born of years of festering anger and the immediate, desperate need to protect what’s left of my fractured world. Lila is gone, and he chooses now to reappear?
“What the hell are you doing here, Theo? I don’t have time for bullshit right now.” My voice is steel, stripped of warmth, each word laced with the ice of old wounds and fresh agony. I don’t have time for this. Not with Lila in that bastard’s hands.
He raises his hands slowly, those same piercing gray eyes— our eyes—locking onto mine. Eyes that once held shared dreams, now reflect a past I tried to outrun. “I’m not here to fight.”
“Theo.” His name tastes like ash. Like regret. Like guilt. Like every fucking mistake I’ve made since I walked out of that house all those years ago.
I hear Ryker shift behind me. “This your long-lost brother?” His voice is low, edged with surprise. He, like Bastian, knows the name, knows this is the brother I’ve carried like a stone in my gut for years.
Theo doesn’t flinch. “Yeah. And I’ve got information you need. About Kolya. About where he’s keeping Lila.”
The air in the room shifts, tension snapping like a live wire. Anger still burns in my veins, but against my will, against every instinct screaming at me to slam the door, to put a bullet in the past he represents, a desperate flicker of hope ignites. How could he know anything useful? This has to be a trick, another layer to this nightmare.
I press the barrel of my gun against his chest, searching for a sign of deception, for the con I’m sure is coming. My hand trembles slightly, not from fear of him, but from the war raging inside me. Trust him? Trust Theo? The idea is poison. But Lila… Lila is out there. The impossible choice crystallizes: my rage versus her safety. “You’ve got five seconds to explain how you know jack shit before I put a bullet in you.”
Theo doesn’t move, doesn’t blink. “Kolya’s estate has weaknesses. I know them. I know his security, his guards, his schedules. I know where he’s keeping her. And I know how to get us in without getting killed.”
The gun feels heavy in my hand. How the hell would he know all that? Unless...
I glance back at Bastian, who meets my gaze with that unreadable expression of his.
I grab Theo by the collar and shove him back against the wall. “Why the hell should I believe a damn thing you say? How do you know any of this?”
Theo exhales, a sound heavy with resignation. "Because I worked for Kolya for years."
A beat of silence. Bastian’s head snaps up. Ryker lets out a disbelieving curse under his breath. My brother worked for Kolya? The man who tortured Lila? The man who has her now ? The words hit me like a physical blow, a fresh stab of betrayal twisting the knife of old wounds. The idea that while I was building a life, trying to do some good, my own blood was serving a monster… it’s unthinkable and truly sickening.
"I’m not proud of it," Theo continues, his voice rough, meeting my furious gaze. "But what I know can help now. I was one of his guards. I guarded Lila."
The world tilts. Guarded her? My mind struggles to reconcile the image of the boy I grew up with, the brother I tried to shield, with a man capable of standing by while Lila suffered. The betrayal deepens, suffocating me.
"And I'm the one who helped her escape," Theo says, the words quiet but carrying the force of a physical blow. "I'm the guard who got her out."
Silence slams into the room, absolute and deafening. My mind reels, struggling to connect this— my brother, Kolya's guard, Lila's Savior? The pieces whirl, then crash into place with stunning, painful clarity. Lila’s story… the unnamed guard… the one who’d told her to head for Yachats because his brother lived here…
Ryker steps forward, his gun lowered slightly, eyes wide as he stares at Theo. “Holy shit,” he breathes, the realization hitting him. “The guard, Lila said a guard helped her. Told her his brother was in Yachats. That was you ?”
Bastian’s gaze is a laser, fixed on Theo, then flicking to me. The implications are enormous, almost too much to process.
My hand on Theo’s collar slackens. It was him. The brother I thought lost to darkness, the one I’d felt so much anger and guilt over, had been the one to give Lila her first chance at freedom. He’d sent her towards me , without either of us knowing. The maelstrom of fury, betrayal, and shock inside me doesn't vanish, but a new, bewildering current joins the storm, a reluctant, grudging flicker of something akin to disbelief, maybe even a sliver of pride, quickly smothered by the sheer impossibility of it all.
“She was just a kid,” Theo says, his voice raw with a pain that mirrors my own. “Kolya took her, broke her, and I—” His throat bobs. “I got her out. Sent her towards Yachats, hoping you might be a safe haven for her, even if I couldn't tell her who you were specifically. I just gave her the town. I had to go deep underground right after, cover my tracks. But I kept an eye on her from a distance when I could, saw you guys had found her, took her in. I was relieved she was safe, that someone was looking out for her.”
Theo’s voice cracks slightly, fists clenching. “I should have done more. Should have found a way to warn you he was still hunting her. Now, knowing she’s back in his hands…” He sucks in a breath. “I fear what he’ll do to her. What he’s already done.”
A fresh wave of rage hits me, but it’s complicated now, tangled with a bewildering mix of old anger, fresh guilt, and a reluctant, dawning respect. We thought she was safe. And my own brother had been her silent, distant protector.
Theo’s eyes darken. “I’ve spent years trying to make up for my mistakes. Helping get Lila back—that’s the only way I can live with myself.”
The anger still burns, but the foundation beneath it has shifted. It isn’t just about his past crimes anymore; it’s about Lila. And it’s about the staggering truth of what he did for her.
I step back, finally lowering the gun. My posture remains rigid, but the fury in my gaze is tempered with something else—a raw, conflicted turmoil. "Start talking. We don’t have time for anything but getting her back."
Theo
Silence stretches in the war room, thick and suffocating. Every pair of eyes burns into me, filled with distrust, skepticism, and in Ethan’s case—pure, unfiltered anger. He hasn't said a word since I spoke, but his jaw is locked so tight I swear he’ll break a tooth. His gaze is a physical weight, crushing me with the force of years of disappointment, of brotherhood fractured. I see the betrayal warring with the desperate need for information, and it guts me. He always found a way out, a way to be better. I got stuck. Maybe that’s what he sees, what he can't forgive.
I inhale deeply, the weight of every choice I’d ever made pressing down on me. They know now that I was part of Kolya's world, that I was the one who helped her get away. "There's no excuse for the life I fell into," I begin, my gaze fixed on Ethan, then sweeping to the others. "But Lila... she wasn’t just a job to me, not just another victim in his twisted world. She was the reason I finally saw a way out of it, a reason to try."
The room tenses. Guns aren't drawn anymore, but I can see fingers twitch toward them. Near me, Ethan radiates hostility. Bastian’s expression is unreadable. Ryker narrows his eyes, grip tightening around the knife he always keeps on him. Ethan doesn’t move—he just stares, cold and unrelenting.
“She was different,” I continue, forcing myself to keep my tone steady, even as the memory of her kindness in that hellhole makes my throat ache. “Most people in Kolya’s world either bowed to him or got crushed under his boot. They lost themselves to fear, or they became part of the cruelty. But Lila… even when he was doing his worst to her, trying to break every piece of her, she never fully let him. There was still a light in her, a strength he couldn’t extinguish.” I exhale sharply. “And despite everything she was going through, she was still the kindest person I knew. She treated me , one of his damn guards, like a person. Not a weapon, not a criminal, just a human being. She’d ask about my day, share a piece of fruit if she managed to snag an extra one, small things that felt monumental in that place. It sounds stupid, but that simple decency, that refusal to let his darkness taint her own goodness… For the first time in my life, that made me want to be better.”
My gaze drops to the floor, shame and a different kind of pain twisting in my gut. “I was assigned to her often. Became her main guard, in a way. We found moments. Small ones. A shared look when Kolya wasn’t watching. A quiet word when no one else was listening. Sometimes, when the risk felt manageable, I’d find excuses to get her out of that cursed mansion, even if just for a drive, a walk somewhere remote where she could breathe air that wasn’t tainted by him. Little rebellions, stupid risks on my part. Pathetic attempts to give her a sliver of normalcy, to try and balance the scales for the horrors he put her through.”
I look up, meeting Ethan’s stony gaze, then Bastian’s, then Ryker’s. “Don’t get me wrong. I was there. I saw what he did to her. I stood by, a coward in his uniform, while he… while he broke her. And every time, a piece of me died with her. Knowing I was part of the system that allowed it, even as I tried to offer these small, stupid comforts… it ate me alive. The guilt was a constant companion, a shadow I couldn't shake. There were nights I couldn’t sleep, her haunted eyes burned into my memory.”
I shift on my feet, hesitating before I continue, the words feeling heavy, inadequate. "Helping her escape was the only good thing I’ve ever done. The only time I truly fought back against what he was, what I had become. It wasn't just about freeing her; it was about trying to salvage some piece of my own soul, proving to myself that I wasn't entirely lost to the darkness I'd let myself sink into."
The weight of those words settles deep in my chest. My life has been a string of mistakes, each one leading me further down a road I never meant to travel. But that moment of helping her escape is my proof that I am not completely lost.
Ethan averts his gaze, attention snapping sharply to the blueprints spread across the table as if my words are physically uncomfortable to hear. He scoffs, the sound sharp and dismissive. “And yet, here we are. She’s back in his hands.”
A sharp pang of regret slams into me. He’s right. No matter what I’d done back then, it hadn't been enough. “I never stopped keeping tabs on her,” I admit, my voice rough. But what good had it done? If I had been watching Kolya instead of just hoping she was safe, maybe I could have stopped this. "I couldn't get too close, couldn't risk Kolya tracing me back to her, but I found ways. Saw she’d made it to Yachats, saw she’d found… well, found you. And for a while, I thought she was finally safe. That my gamble had paid off."
Ethan’s stare drills into me like he’s trying to peel back every layer, searching for the lie. But there isn't one. I’m done running. Done hiding. If saving Lila is the only thing I ever do right, then I’ll die making it happen.
“Theo,” Bastian says finally, arms crossed over his chest. “You’re telling us you know how to get inside undetected?”
I nod. "I already told you, Kolya’s estate has weaknesses. I know the security, the guard shifts, the blind spots. I walked those patrols for years. I saw where the cameras didn't reach, which sensors were glitchy, how complacent some of the outer guards became."
But more importantly, I know who’s watching her. I still have contacts on the inside, a few guards who never fully bought into Kolya’s madness. They feed me intel when they can, and that’s how I know exactly where she is.
A muscle ticks in Ethan’s jaw. “Who’s watching her?”
“Dimitri Ivanov.”
That gets a reaction. Grim’s grip on his gun tightens. Ryker mutters a curse. Even Ethan, as furious as he is, has to process the weight of that name. Dimitri isn't just a guard, he is Kolya’s personal brute. A nightmare in human form. Everyone knows of his brutality. He doesn't care if you are a man or a woman; pain is his language, and he speaks it fluently.
“Kolya keeping her locked up,” I say, voice quieter now. “He knows she’s pregnant. He’s insane enough to believe the baby is his. That’s the only reason Dimitri hasn't hurt her yet, which means we have a window, but it's closing fast.”
Getting past Dimitri quietly requires knowing exactly how he operates—his triggers, his blind spots when he's focused. A direct confrontation with him is unthinkable.
He won't touch her until she gives birth. But that doesn’t mean he won’t make her life hell in the meantime.
I clench my fists at the memory of Dimitri’s methods. The way he enjoys inflicting pain, his sick loyalty to Kolya. The thought of Lila suffering under his hands makes my stomach turn.
The silence stretches again, heavier this time. They know I am right. They don’t have to trust me to know the truth.
Bastian turns to Ethan. “We already had a plan in motion. If Theo’s intel checks out, it makes our job easier.”
Ethan is still rigid, tension coiling through him. I can see the battle playing out behind his eyes. He doesn’t want to let me in. Doesn’t want to believe that after all these years, I could be on the right side of anything.
But this isn't about us.
I frown, glancing between them. "What’s the plan? How are you getting her out?"
Bastian is the one to answer, his voice steady. "We use the lieutenant first. He’s one of Kolya’s trusted men, but we’ve found a crack—he’s been skimming money, and Kolya doesn’t know yet."
We leak just enough to make Kolya suspicious. Then, we hit his shipment. By the time he realizes what’s happening, he’ll be too busy dealing with internal chaos to see the next move coming.
Ethan exhales sharply through his nose, shaking his head like he can’t believe this is happening. “And?”
“There’s a hidden entrance. It’s not on any blueprints. Kolya had it built as an escape route in case of an attack, paranoid bastard. He only trusted a handful of his inner circle with its existence, men he thought completely loyal, bound by fear or necessity, who could secure his exit if everything went sideways. I was, regrettably, one of that handful back then.
It wasn't even on the official 'emergency' plans or in his blueprints; it was his personal bolt-hole. If he’s keeping Lila anywhere secure, it’s likely in the master bedroom, close to him, and near his secret way out."
Bastian and Ryker exchange loaded looks. Ethan, however, remains focused on the blueprints, where I pointed out its location, tracing a line with one finger, his expression carefully neutral. I let the significance of that hidden passage sink in, watching their reactions, particularly Ethan's careful avoidance.
When he finally looks up, crossing his arms tightly, I meet his hard gaze. "That intel on the tunnel is gold. And probably my death warrant if Kolya knew I coughed it up." A grimace. "Glad I got it out before you started interrogating me and it got too rough."
No one laughs, but Grim smirks slightly. "Well, he lasted this long working for Kolya and then showed up here. Kid's either got nine lives or the devil's own luck. Might be useful."
Ethan clenches his jaw. “And why the hell should we trust you?”
I hold his gaze, unwavering. “You don’t have to. But Lila doesn’t have time for your grudge. I put my life on the line for her once already because I saw something in her worth saving, something Kolya couldn't break. I’m doing it again because she deserves to be free of him, permanently. And because, frankly, it's the only way I can even begin to atone for the man I became. I want him dealt with so she can finally be happy, because she deserves that much.”
The tension between us is electric. But he knows I am right. Whether he likes it or not, I am their best shot at getting her back.
Finally, Ethan steps back, giving a curt, single nod. The gesture is minimal, laced with reluctance, but it’s acceptance. At least, acceptance of the necessity of my intel.
The shift is immediate. The rest of the team doesn't hesitate. Guns, explosives, tactical gear—it all comes together in a practiced, lethal rhythm. This is what they do. What they are best at. I watch for a beat before moving to grab the spare gear one of the guys said I could use. For the first time in my life, I am not on the outside looking in, even if my place here is tentative.
As I strap my weapons into place, the movements automatic after years of handling firearms, I glance at Ethan. He is watching me, a complex mix of doubt and maybe something else flickering in his eyes. I hesitate mid-motion, the unspoken question hanging between us: Am I truly part of this, or just a temporary asset? A tool, not his brother?
Ethan's gaze meets mine, and the flicker hardens into impatience. His voice is clipped, devoid of warmth, purely functional.
"What the hell are you waiting for? Finish gearing up. We move in five. You're coming, aren't you?." He doesn’t wait for an answer, turning back sharply to double-check his own harness, pointedly severing the eye contact.
Relief, thin but real, uncoils slightly in my chest, just knowing I won't be left behind. But the warmth I'd hoped for isn't there. He hasn't accepted me ; he'd accepted my utility for the mission. Maybe that flicker wasn't doubt but lingering resentment. Yet underneath the coldness, I see it.
Raw desperation. And maybe, just maybe, a sliver of hope buried so deep he hasn't acknowledged it himself. Hope that this might actually work. That I might actually be useful.
We are going to war for Lila. And this time, we won’t fail.