Chapter 27
**[Third Person POV]**
The armored black SUV tore through the iron gates of the Reeves estate, not even bothering to slow down for the security checkpoint.
In the back seat, General Alexander Reeves sat rigidly, his massive frame practically vibrating with barely contained anticipation.
He was still wearing his dirt-caked combat uniform from the extraction mission in Northern Africa.
His knuckles were bruised, his left bicep was bandaged beneath his sleeve, and he hadn't slept in over seventy-two hours.
He didn't care.
For the first time in his thirty-three years of life, Alexander Reeves was not thinking like a soldier. He was thinking like a man who was starving.
(His turned 33 two weeks ago when he was still engaged with the mission)
The one-year contract was over. The suffocating rules of engagement he had set to protect her-and to honor her father-were officially void.
He was finally going to drop his impenetrable walls.
He was going to walk into that fortress, find his beautiful, shy, easily intimidated wife, drop to his knees if he had to, and tell her that she owned his soul.
He was going to kiss her until she forgot the word "contract" ever existed.
The SUV screeched to a halt at the front steps. Alexander didn't wait for Ethan to open his door; he shoved it open himself and took the stone steps two at a time.
He pushed open the heavy oak doors, expecting the soft, chaotic warmth that Grace had brought to this cold, empty tomb. He expected the faint smell of vanilla, or the scent of slightly burnt toast coming from the kitchen.
But as he stepped into the foyer, he was met with absolute, hollow silence.
The air was stagnant. Cold.
"Grace?" Alexander called out, his deep, gravelly voice echoing off the marble floors.
Nothing.
A tiny, unfamiliar prick of panic hit the back of the General's neck. His tactical mind instantly began scanning for threats. Was she asleep? Was she out with Mia?
He unholstered his sidearm entirely on instinct, his storm-gray eyes narrowing as he moved silently through the hallways. "Grace."
He checked the kitchen. Empty. He checked her guest wing. The bed was perfectly made. The closet doors were open.
Her clothes were gone.
The panic mutated into a cold, terrifying dread. Alexander shoved his gun back into its holster and strode purposefully toward his mahogany-paneled library. The heavy oak doors were slightly ajar.
He pushed them open.
Sitting in one of the high-backed leather armchairs by the unlit fireplace was Grandmother Eleanor. She was perfectly composed, a cup of Earl Grey tea resting on her lap, but her sharp eyes were filled with a profound, heavy sorrow.
Alexander didn't look at her. His gaze was immediately magnetized to the center of his mahogany desk.
Lying precisely in the middle was a crisp manila envelope.
Alexander stopped breathing.
He approached the desk slowly, his heavy combat boots echoing like gunshots in the dead quiet of the room. He stared down at the documents.
*Petition for Dissolution of Marriage.*
At the bottom of the page, signed in her neat, delicate handwriting, was a single name: *Grace Zane.* Not Reeves. Zane.
And resting directly on top of her signature, catching the dim light of the library, was the diamond engagement ring and the wedding band he had placed on her finger exactly one year ago.
For ten seconds, the Supreme Commander of the Armed Forces did not move. He did not blink.
Then, Alexander's large, calloused hand reached out. He picked up the rings. They were freezing cold.
A horrifying, deafening snap echoed through the room. Alexander had gripped the edge of his solid mahogany desk with his other hand, his fingers digging into the wood with such violent, ungodly force that the thick timber actually splintered and cracked under his grip.
"Where is she?" Alexander asked.
His voice wasn't a yell. It was infinitely worse. It was a low, lethal, vibrating growl that promised absolute devastation. It was the voice of a predator who had just discovered someone had stolen his mate.
Eleanor set her teacup down with a quiet *clink*. She didn't flinch at the terrifying aura radiating off her grandson. "She left, Alexander. Three hours ago."
Alexander slowly turned his head to look at his grandmother. His storm-gray eyes were practically black, completely devoid of their usual rigid discipline. He looked feral.
"Where. Is. She." he repeated, every syllable laced with venom.
"I don't know," Eleanor replied calmly, standing up and smoothing her emerald coat. "And even if I did, I would not tell you. Because if you go to her right now, looking like an enraged warlord, you will only terrify her further."
"She is my wife!" Alexander roared, the sound violently shaking the glass panes of the library doors. The tactical restraint was completely gone. He threw the divorce papers across the room, the pages scattering over the floor like dead leaves. "She belongs here! With me!"
"She belonged to a contract!" Eleanor snapped back, her own voice rising with unapologetic authority, meeting his wrath head-on. "A contract that expired today! You let her walk away, Alexander!"
"I promised her father I would protect her!" Alexander snarled, his chest heaving, his fist still bleeding from where the wood had splintered into his skin.
"You promised to protect her from the world, yes," Eleanor said, taking a step toward him, her sharp eyes piercing straight through his military armor.
"You gave her money. You gave her security. You gave her a fortress. You treated her like a military objective. But you refused to give her the one thing she actually wanted. The one thing that would have made her stay."
Alexander froze, his jaw clenching so hard it looked like the bone might shatter.
"She loves you, you foolish boy," Eleanor said softly, the anger draining from her voice, leaving only pity.
"She sat right there on those steps, crying, telling me that she had to leave because you only cared for her out of duty. She told me you rejected her in this study. She thinks she is a burden to you."
Alexander felt like he had just taken a bullet straight to the chest without a Kevlar vest.
*She thinks she is a burden.*
The memory hit him like a freight train. *Do not wait for me.* He had said it to keep her safe. He had pushed her away because he thought his dark, violent world would destroy her sunlight.
He thought he was being an honorable soldier.
Instead, he had completely broken her heart.
Alexander looked down at the two rings in his palm. His hand-the hand that had ended lives, directed armies, and held the fate of nations-was visibly shaking.
He didn't just lose his wife. He had driven her away.
Suddenly, Colonel Ethan Brooks rushed into the library, his sidearm drawn, having heard Alexander's earlier roar. "General! Sir, what is the situation-"
Ethan stopped dead in his tracks. He looked at the shattered edge of the desk. He looked at the scattered divorce papers on the floor. And then, he looked at his commander.
Alexander was standing in the center of the room, looking at a pair of rings with an expression of such pure, unadulterated devastation that Ethan felt a chill run down his spine.
The General's eyes slowly lifted from the rings to Ethan.
The devastation vanished in a fraction of a second, immediately replaced by a cold, calculating, and dangerously possessive wrath.
The Supreme Commander was back, but he was no longer operating on military logic.
He was operating on pure, obsessive instinct.
"Brooks," Alexander commanded, his voice deadly quiet.
"Sir?" Ethan swallowed hard.
"Deploy a surveillance team. I want her exact location in ten minutes. I want to know where she is living, where she is working, and who she is talking to. You put a four-man covert security detail on her at all times. If a single person so much as looks at her incorrectly, I want them neutralized."
"Yes, Sir," Ethan nodded rapidly, tapping his comms earpiece. "And... when we locate her, Sir? Do I prep the SUV for extraction? Shall we bring her back?"
Alexander looked at the unsigned line on the divorce papers scattered on the floor. He hadn't signed them. He would *never* sign them.
"No," Alexander said, his jaw turning to absolute steel. He carefully slipped Grace's engagement ring and wedding band onto his own pinky finger, the metal resting against his skin like a solemn vow.
"If I drag her back now, she will think I am acting on contract protocol," Alexander murmured, his storm-gray eyes locking onto the window, staring out into the dark, rainy night. His mind was already formulating a tactical, devastatingly precise plan.
"I fulfilled my duty to her father," Alexander vowed to the empty room, his voice vibrating with absolute, unyielding possession. "Now, I am going to earn my wife. Prepare the Medal of Honor ceremony guest list, Brooks. I am sending out a mandatory invitation."
**AUTHOR'S NOTE ????**
HE PUT HER RINGS ON HIS OWN FINGER!!! ?????? I am screaming, crying, and throwing up! General Reeves is completely, utterly obsessed and feral. The way he cracked the solid mahogany desk just by gripping it?! TERRIFYING.
Grandmother Eleanor absolutely served in this chapter.
She did not hold back! She told him exactly how badly he messed up by playing the "honorable soldier."
But now... Alexander has a plan. He isn't going to drag her back kicking and screaming; he is going to PROVE his love to her in front of the entire world.
**TEASER FOR CHAPTER 28 (The Invitation):**
Grace is trying to move on. She's working at the pediatric clinic with Mia, trying to forget her heartbreak.
But when a pair of heavily armed, terrifying military guards walk right into the clinic waiting room holding a gold-embossed envelope with the Presidential seal...
let's just say Grace is about to realize you cannot outrun the Supreme Commander. ????
**Let's chat in the comments!**
?? *What was your favorite line from Eleanor in this chapter?*
?? *How do you think Grace is going to react when Ethan and the guards show up at her new job?!*
**Don't forget to VOTE ?? and COMMENT your thoughts! See you in Chapter 28! ????**