2 Asher #2
“It’s okay, sweetheart,” Dr. Bennett says softly. “Right now, let’s focus on getting you taken care of.”
Over the next hour, he carefully cleans and examines every injury.
By the end of it, Scarlett needs sixteen stitches spread across three separate cuts.
Thankfully, the attack hadn’t gone as far as it could have.
But what she endured tonight was already more than enough.
By the time Dr. Bennett finally finishes writing prescriptions and packing up his supplies, it’s almost three in the morning.
I walk him downstairs and thank him quietly at the front door.
“Have Harper call my cell tomorrow,” I tell him. “Scarlett doesn’t have her phone, and I’m not letting her anywhere near that house while Celeste is still there.”
Dr. Bennett nods grimly before leaving.
When I head back upstairs, I find Scarlett curled into herself on the bed silently crying while staring at the wall. Something in my chest tightens painfully. I kneel beside the bed so she can see me.
“Hey, Red,” I say softly. “What happened tonight was pretty fucking awful, but you should be proud of yourself.”
Her eyes slowly shift toward mine.
“You fought like hell. You didn’t let them win. You ran, and you found me.” I brush a tear gently from her cheek. “And I’m gonna make sure you’re safe from now on, okay?”
She stares at me for a long moment before speaking.
“I don’t even know your name,” she says quietly, her voice breaking.
A small smile tugs at the corner of my mouth despite everything.
“Asher, baby. My name’s Asher.”
Her eyes slowly close again.
“Now get under the blankets and try to sleep. I’ll be downstairs if you need me, alright?”
“Okay.” She swallows hard. “And… Asher?”
“Yeah, Red?”
“Thank you.” Fresh tears slide down her cheeks. “For opening the door. For saving me. For cleaning me up. Calling Dr. Bennett… everything. Thank you.”
My chest aches hearing it.
“You’re welcome, Red.” I pull the blankets gently over her shoulders. “Get some sleep.”
I wait until her breathing finally starts to slow before quietly shutting the bedroom door behind me and heading downstairs to the couch. I pull out my phone and dial Grant.
“Tell me what the hell happened tonight,” he says the second he answers, his voice tight with frustration.
I walk him through everything Scarlett told us, each detail making my blood boil more than the last. By the time I finish, I’m seconds away from grabbing a gun and hunting down every single one of those fucking bastards myself.
“We’re gonna need to adjust the plan,” Grant says after a long silence. “She cannot be left alone. Especially not around Celeste.”
His tone hardens.
“I’m sending Roman and Declan up there. And I’m enrolling you at Raven Hills Academy. I want you in every single one of Scarlett’s classes.”
I lean my head back against the couch and close my eyes.
“You do not leave her alone,” he continues. “Do you understand me?”
I let out a dark laugh.
“Yeah, I get it, asshole.” Anger flashes through me instantly. “You think I don’t understand how serious this is? You weren’t the one who opened the door and caught her bruised and bloody in your arms.” The image of Scarlett trembling against my chest slams back into my head.
“You don’t think I already feel like a fucking failure?” I snap. “I’ve been on over a hundred missions, Grant. Not once has someone gotten hurt on my watch.”
Silence.
“I’m not called Phantom for nothing,” I continue coldly. “There’s a reason you sent me instead of Roman or Declan. I know what the fuck I’m doing.”
My jaw clenches.
“And I’ll get the job done.”
Before he can respond, I hang up and toss my phone onto the coffee table.
I sink back against the couch cushions and stare at the dark ceiling.
Upstairs, Scarlett Vale is asleep in my bed after barely surviving the worst night of her life.
And somehow, after only a few hours, I already know one thing for certain: Anyone who touches that girl again is fucking dead.
I drag a hand down my face and let out a slow breath.
I wasn’t supposed to be here long. This was supposed to be a simple surveillance assignment.
Gather intel, observe the Vale family, figure out what the hell was happening inside Vale Enterprises, and report back to Grant so we could decide our next move.
In and out. Clean. Professional. That was tonight: Scarlett Vale bleeding into my arms at one-thirty in the morning changed every goddamn thing.
Her grandfather’s attorney contacted Knightfall Security two weeks ago after a series of financial irregularities started surfacing inside Vale Enterprises.
Missing records. Unauthorized transfers.
Shareholders quietly selling stock. Accounts that didn’t add up.
The attorney claimed Thomas Vale was hiding something, but the real concern wasn’t the company.
It was Scarlett.
According to him, her grandfather had spent years quietly protecting her inheritance before his death.
After Thomas took over the family business, communication with Scarlett suddenly became impossible.
Calls got redirected. Messages disappeared.
Meetings were canceled. The attorney said every instinct he had was screaming that something wasn’t right inside the Vale estate.
Thomas was to be Interim CEO until Scarlett became of age.
That’s where we came in.
Knightfall wasn’t some average private security company.
Most of our operatives came from military intelligence, Special Forces, black operations, cyber warfare, or agencies the government pretended didn’t exist.
We handled jobs the law either couldn’t touch or didn’t want tied back to them.
Publicly, we were an elite security and investigations firm.
Privately?
We were the people powerful men called when situations became dangerous enough to bury.
Grant built the company after retiring from the Navy SEALs.
Declan handled operations and strategy because his brain worked like a damn war map twenty-four hours a day.
Roman specialized in weapons, surveillance, and most of the time close protection, most days he acted more like a walking smartass with anger issues. Me?
I was the weapon they pointed at problems.
West Point recruited me young. Special Forces made me dangerous.
The government made me a ghost. That is why I was called The Phantom.
That’s what they called me after my third black-site extraction mission went sideways and I still managed to bring every hostage home alive while leaving twelve bodies behind.
After that, my name started getting passed around in rooms I would never officially admit existed.
I spent years doing jobs nobody talked about afterward.
Assassinations. Extractions. Eliminations.
The kind of work that stripped pieces of your soul away until you stopped recognizing yourself in the mirror.
Then Grant offered me something different.
A mission stateside. Something that was low risk. Protect the girl and watch the family.
Find the truth.
Simple.
At least that’s what I thought before Scarlett Vale showed up at my door broken, terrified, and half naked. The second I saw the bruises on her body and fear in those blue eyes, this stopped being just another assignment. Because now? This was personal. This is going to be a very long three months.