46. Chapter 46
SEAN
DECLAN'S MANSION IS A BUNCH of scattered elegant boxes lit from behind by the sunset.
It's on a whole other level and a completely different reality than mine.
Wrought iron gates swing open as we arrive, welcoming us to a world where money solves most problems. Except mine.
I doubt money would buy Victor off; he's likely almost as rich as Declan.
And some men only care about power, which already seeps from Victor's pores.
I drive along the curved driveway to the front of the house.
The place itself is modern, with white walls broken by massive glass panels that catch fire in the dying light.
Two stories of contemporary angles and clean lines spread out across the property like an architectural magazine cover come to life.
Meticulously placed olive trees line the entrance, their silver-green leaves moving from the breeze coming off the bay.
The entire property is surrounded by old growth trees—privacy by design rather than afterthought.
I park and then kill the engine, but I don't move. Neither does Londyn.
We sit in silence as twilight creeps over the windshield. The car becomes a bubble, suspended between what we've left and whatever comes next. I study the amazing, beautiful woman beside me. She's got a lot of tension in her jaw and her fingers keep drifting to her middle.
I can't even fully describe how my heart is reacting to the way her hand is lovingly caressing her stomach. There's warmth and fullness and an ache. It's a light in the gloom, cracking through a dark storm cloud.
Boy or girl? I wonder.
She wasn't as stealthy as she thought at the gas station.
I'd clocked her through the large anti-theft mirror behind the register: the way she exited the bathroom, paused, then went back in.
Minutes later, a woman entered, returned to the aisles for a pregnancy test, then disappeared into the bathroom again.
The pieces were easy enough to assemble.
But it was the look in her eyes when she finally came out, that mixt of wonder and terror and something so loving, that confirmed what I'd already suspected.
Londyn is pregnant. With my child.
The knowledge is like a second heartbeat, like I can already feel our child's life connected to mine. A baby. My baby. It's so far removed from the path I thought my life would take that it feels like someone else's dream I've accidentally slipped into.
I want that dream.
Just one more obstacle to get there.
I lift Londyn's hand to my mouth and kiss her knuckles, trying to ease some of her nervousness. "My friends are good people. They're the only ones I trust to keep you safe."
Londyn nods but doesn't look at me. "I'm sure they are."
"Declan's got resources. Security systems most governments would envy. If something happens to me—"
"Don't." Her voice cracks around the edges. "Please. Don't even…"
"I need you to understand." I brush her knuckles along my cheek. Her skin is warm and inviting and part of me fears this is the last time we'll touch. "Declan's filthy rich and stupidly generous. He'll make sure you're taken care of."
Londyn glances at the mansion, then back at me with a flicker of her old humor. "Rich? I hadn't noticed."
The joke is weak but I grab onto it. My face seems to barely remember how to smile, muscles working in unfamiliar patterns after days of grim focus. It feels good. Necessary.
Could be our last moment together.
What if I never get to meet my child?
Londyn leans over the console to press her forehead against mine. "You're coming back, Sean. That's not even a question."
I exhale, forcing honesty through my teeth.
"I want to. That's all I want. But this isn't a movie where the good guys always win.
I need to be real about what we're up against. I should be able to get in and get out, but I've gone on too many 'easy' missions that went sideways. I'm not going to sugar-coat this."
"No." She sniffs and her eyes pierce me in the dim light. "Just don't. Don't even suggest that. You'll be okay. And you'll come back. You are coming back."
Several yards away, two figures step out of a massive wooden door onto the wide limestone entrance.
Declan's height is unmistakable even at this distance.
His gait is uneven as he moves. Beside him, Sienna's vibrant hair glows copper in the fading light.
If this were a normal visit, they'd be approaching already and Sienna would barely be able to contain her joy.
But they're hanging back, waiting for us to approach first. I'm sure my rushed phone call the other day put them on high alert, especially since I told them I couldn't go into details.
Londyn is staring at me, unblinking, waiting for me to make a promise that I refuse to; I won't make a promise I might not keep.
There are a hundred different ways this could go wrong. The wrong word to Victor's contact. The police catching me with heroin before I can plant it. Miller discovering me and getting a lucky shot.
Or worst of all: success, but Victor deciding to eliminate loose ends anyway.
The car, Londyn's stare, the world—everything presses in. My combat-ready pulse hammers against my ribs as I contemplate what a fucking dark pit I've fallen into.
I kiss Londyn's forehead then motion for us to both get out of the car. She opens her mouth to say something, but I push the car door open before she convinces me to tell her lies. The future is unknown and that's just how it is.
The warm California air hits me and I smell eucalyptus and ocean salt. My boots crunch on the fine gravel as I circle to the trunk and glance at Declan across the distance. The eye contact gets him and Sienna to start moving in our direction.
Londyn steps out of the car quickly to continue our conversation. "Sean, I—"
"I've always liked the name Alexis."
She blinks at me, momentarily confused. "What?"
"Alexis. If it's a girl."
Tears spring to her eyes and she shakes her head. "God, I should've known you'd figure it out. You somehow know everything."
"Of course I know." I pull her into a hug, just enjoying her in my arms. "We created life. That's something you feel. Think it'll be a girl?"
She fists my shirt and her voice cracks. "Sean… you have to find that out yourself. You're coming back. You're—"
Footsteps crunch beside us as Declan and Sienna approach with caution. Londyn pulls away from me and wipes at her face.
When she's composed, I place my hand at the small of her back as we turn toward my friends. "This is Declan and Sienna Conte."
Sienna moves in immediately for a hug, wrapping her arms around Londyn like they're old friends rather than strangers.
"I'm so glad to meet you," she says. She's pure warmth and kindness and Londyn immediately relaxes in her arms. Sienna gives her a long hug, then moves back to rub Londyn's shoulders.
"I just wish it were under better circumstances. "
Sienna turns to me next, pulling me into an embrace that's both gentle and fierce. "You look like hell," she whispers in my ear.
"I feel worse."
"We're going to take good care of her," Sienna adds quietly, glancing over at Londyn who's wiping her eyes. "I can already tell she's special. The way you look at each other..." She squeezes my arm. "I recognize that look. It's the same way Declan looks at me."
Declan hangs back, giving Londyn a polite nod and handshake before his eyes lock with mine.
The worry there is unmistakable. He's reading the situation with the keen intellect that made him a billionaire.
I didn't say much on the phone, just that I needed to cash in on his standing offer to be there when I needed it.
He gives me a frown like his face has never known a smile. One look at me already told him everything he needs to know: whatever this is, it's bad.
"Nice to meet you both," Londyn tells them. "Thank you for opening your home. I'm sorry—"
"You're welcome," Sienna cuts in. "It'll be great to have some feminine energy around here. My husband can be a lot."
Declan only grunts.
I smirk but inside this all feels depressing.
Is this the last time I'll see Declan and Sienna?
Declan moves forward carefully, favoring his good leg. "Let me help with your luggage."
Londyn hurries to the trunk, reaching for my suitcase alongside hers. I catch her hand gently, my fingers circling her wrist.
"Just yours," I say.
The words slice between us, cutting what little remained of Londyn's control. She collapses against me and starts sobbing. "I thought we'd have tonight at least. I need one more night. Please."
"I have to get to L.A. as soon as I can."
The plan is to meet Victor's contact and get the heroin. Then I drive to San Diego where Miller is filming. I plant the evidence that will bring a man down, though not for the right crimes. With luck, it all goes smoothly.
But I've never had the best luck, hence why I'm so on edge. My instincts don't feel good about this, but I have no choice.
I hold Londyn against me, one hand cradling the back of her head as she presses her face into my chest, fogging up her glasses. Her body trembles with tiny, controlled earthquakes running through her frame.
While she sobs, I glance at Declan and Sienna. Both look even more worried, with Sienna on the verge of tears and Declan scowling like he wants to puncture my tires so I can't leave.
Londyn hugs me tight. "Come back to me," she whispers against my shirt. "Promise."
I can't make that promise. Not with any certainty. So I kiss her instead, pouring everything I can't say into the contact. When we break apart, I rest my forehead against hers.
"I have to go."
"I love you," she says, gripping my shirt like she might physically prevent me from leaving.
"Saranghae. More than I thought possible."
Over Londyn's shoulder, I catch Sienna's eye. Her face is a mirror of Londyn's pain, but she understands without being told. She slips forward, gently placing an arm around Londyn's shoulders and taking the handle of her suitcase.
"Come on," she says softly. "Let's get you settled inside. You must be exhausted."
Londyn looks back at me one more time, a silent plea in her eyes, before letting Sienna guide her toward the house.
The distance between us stretches until suddenly she's gone and all I want is to bring her back.
But giving into that urge would only put her in danger and get Mike killed.
His family doesn't know he's been taken prisoner, but they're expecting him home soon.
Instead of telling them the situation so they have days of fear and stress, I decided it's better to get this done quickly so Mike can just get back to them.
Declan lingers near the car with his hands stuffed in his pockets. I can feel the weight of his questions—the who and why and how bad and can I help—pressing into the space between us. But he knows me too well to waste time with things I won't answer.
"I assume this is a don't ask questions situation," he says.
"Yup."
His jaw tightens. "Can I at least know how grave it is?"
The last rays of sunlight catch in his eyes, turning them a saturated blue as he waits for me to decide how much truth to give him. I glance toward the house where Londyn disappears into the massive entrance. Then I turn back to my friend.
It's better he doesn't know the details, only what to do in the aftermath.
"If I don't come back or contact you by one AM on Thursday, assume the worst and take Londyn off the grid.
I want her out of the country. I know you'll have questions and want to avenge me, so tell your wife it involves Victor.
She should know who that is and she'll talk you out of seeking justice. "
Declan's face hardens. I guess Sienna must've mentioned Victor at some point, so the name means something to him. Fuck, I hate this. The same shadows that have haunted Sienna are creeping back into their lives because of me. I've brought danger to their doorstep.
If there was any other way to keep Londyn safe…
Declan only nods, accepting the burden. No probing questions. No demands for explanations. Just silent understanding that whatever I'm facing, it's bad enough that we're discussing contingency plans for my death.
He pulls me into a hug that's more strength than comfort, like he's trying to transfer some of his certainty into my bones. "I'll expect to hear from you Thursday," he says. Not 'hope to' or 'want to.' Expect. As if his will alone can guarantee my survival.
I move back, my hand already reaching for the car door, but I hesitate. There's one more thing.
"She's carrying my child."
His expression doesn't change, but his shoulders straighten as if to support this new responsibility. "I'll protect her with my life."
I believe him. It's the only reason I can force myself into the driver's seat and start the engine and watch the mansion grow smaller in my rearview mirror until it's just a glowing pin-drop of light in the gathering darkness.
I grip the steering wheel and head toward the highway. These hands that have taken lives will someday hold my son or daughter. They're about to commit a crime and plant fake evidence, though the asshole deserves it, and someday they'll tie tiny shoes.
If I survive.
If.
The magnitude of Mike's fate crashes down on me again, heavier than before. If only I'd checked my messages sooner. If only I'd been more vigilant. If only I hadn't let my guard down for even those few minutes.
The guilt is acidic, eating through every layer. Whatever fate I'm about to face is my fault. My last and greatest failure.
But after I deal with Miller, there won't be any more mistakes to atone for. I'll be absolved of my sins and free to live the life I've always secretly craved. I'll have a wife, a family, belonging.
For the first time in my existence, I can see a future that isn't defined by duty or service or the weight of others' lives on my shoulders. No more military barracks. No more weapons checks. No more security perimeters and threat assessments.
Just mornings with tea and a book and evenings with Londyn's head on my shoulder. Our child's laughter will echo through our home. I'll have peace.
I just have to get through this last mission. Then I'm free—free of Victor, free of the chains of service, free of the burden I've carried since I first put on a uniform.
The highway stretches ahead, a ribbon of darkness punctuated by the red glow of tail lights. I shift my focus from the guilt and regrets to what's ahead.
It's worth any risk. Worth any cost.
Even if that cost is my soul.