NovelEnglishChapter 411: Two Teams IV
Chapter 411: Two Teams IV
Ewan had always wondered if he would be in this position again—before an onslaught of bullets, heart
hammering, adrenaline surging—after taking his place in his family’s company.
For years, he had convinced himself that boardroom negotiations, corporate deals, and endless paperwork had
replaced the days of ducking fire and leading missions. But sthings never left a man.
The thought had haunted him often during quiet nights, the question whispering: what if it happens again? What
if you find yourself before the barrel of a gun, and your team isn’t there to cover you? What if you're alone?
Now, with walls echoing with gunfire and shouts, with plaster chipping above his head from a spray of bullets,
that question was no longer hypothetical.
And strangely—he smiled.
Because as soon as the trigger pulled, as soon as danger pressed in on all sides, his body remembered. His
training calive in him like muscle memory. His hands and legs moved as if they had been waiting, itching for
this exact moment.
Everything synced: his breath, his eyes, the rhythm of his heart. He moved in one accord, in one flow, like a
current of water rushing through cracks in stone.
The first man cfrom the left, bursting forward, gun raised. Ewan didn’t even blink. His pistol lifted, barked
once, and the man crumpled, his weapon clattering against the tiles.
But Ewan didn’t stay in one place, not with the incoming angry men. He darted forward, boots striking hard
against the floor, then vaulted onto the wall in a smooth arc. His legs found grip where no normal man should
have found footing, and he kicked off, twisting his body midair.
Bullets sprayed beneath him, but his pistol spoke more than twice before he landed, each shot finding its mark in
the men below. Four bodies hit the ground, their fighting objects limp by their sides, before he even touched
down.
The moment his boots kissed the floor, he was already rolling, already firing backward at the enemies chasing
him from behind. His movements were so fluid it almost looked choreographed, like he had rehearsed every
step.
He crouched as bullets flew past, firing back, sparks flashing from metal scraping against concrete. He ducked
beneath a swinging baton, drove his shoulder into the assailant’s chest, and fired point-blank before the man
could even gasp. He didn’t linger, didn’t gloat. Every move was transition into the next, a dancer in a ballet of
death.
He pushed deeper into the hallway, every step measured, every breath controlled. Door by door, he moved,
shoulder against wood, gun raised. He kicked one open thereafter and froze for a fraction of a second.
Inside were things that made his stomach twist—obscene scenes, naked abused women forced into corners,
eyes wide with terror, the criminals using them like shields.
His finger tensed on the trigger, instinct screaming at him to shoot, but discipline held him back. He couldn't risk
hitting innocents.
The nearest thug smirked, thinking Ewan was hesitating in fear. He didn’t realize Ewan was waiting for the
perfect moment.
And when it came—when the criminals finally turned their focus away from him for a second, in order to leave
the bed to accost him, thereby leaving the women unshielded—Ewan acted immediately. His pistol spat fire,
clean and precise. Three shots. Three men down. He lowered his gun slowly, letting the ringing silence fill the
room.
The women blinked at him, trembling. One of them whimpered. Ewan’s jaw clenched, but he didn’t say a word.
He turned, leaving the door wide open, a silent invitation for them to run. To escape.
But even if they didn’t, the state security service would soon invade the building. Aiden had dropped a tip to
them, a late one, intentionally.
Ewan, meanwhile, repeated this through the rooms. Kick. Enter. Judge. Shoot. Leave. Always moving, always
flowing. Srooms stank of smoke and sweat. Others were dens of gambling or drugs. Each time, he found
criminals, and each time, he cut them down with the merciless precision of a man trained for this exact
nightmare.
Blood pooled on the floorboards, shadows stretched long under the flickering bulbs, and still he pressed forward,
one door after another, one body after another.
By the the reached the stairs to the last floor, his breathing was heavier, but his focus sharper. He climbed
step by step, his pistol steady, eyes scanning every corner.
The second floor greeted him with silence—a silence he didn’t trust. He walked slowly, almost crouched, the
muzzle of his pistol leading the way. And then...
A figure stood at the end of the corridor, just outside a heavy door. A girl. She couldn't have been more than
twenty, her hair tied back messily, a rifle steady in her hands.
She was pale under the hallway’s dim light, but her eyes were hard, defiant. She raised her gun, and Ewan froze.
Something about her stopped him cold. She reminded him of Heronica. The angle of her chin, the stubborn line
of her mouth, even the way her hands shook but held steady anyway.
For a heartbeat, he hesitated.
And that hesitation cost him.
The crack of a gunshot ripped through the corridor, and searing pain tore into his thigh. He groaned, staggering
back, hitting the wall with a grunt, settling behind it, just close to the stairs. His pistol nearly slipped from his
hand, but he gritted his teeth and held on.
The girl kept shooting, each round tearing into the walls around him. From the sound and rhythm, he knew she
was getting closer, step by step.
"Are you scared to fight, old man?" she shouted, voice shaking but loud. "Cout, sot!"
Him? A sot?
Despite the burning pain in his leg, Ewan almost laughed. Not because it was funny, but because of the
absurdity of it—here he was, bleeding, hunted, cornered, and still his pride found the insult ridiculous.
He touched the wound at his thigh, grimacing. The pad he'd worn had taken the worst of it, but blood still seeped
through. A surface wound, maybe, but no less painful.
His eyes flicked to his pack. Only one cartridge left.
"One bullet," he muttered under his breath. "Better be worth it."
He inhaled slowly, counting seconds, mind calculating, heart steadying. He needed her to take position—
somewhere predictable, somewhere he could end it with precision.
And then he saw it: the broken glass scattered on the floor, catching faint light, reflecting her shadow as she
stepped closer. Her boots crunched against it, revealing her exact spot without her realizing.
Perfect.
He steadied his hand, lined up the shot, and fired—not at her chest, not at her head, but at her right leg; mercy
prevailing.Chapter 412: Two Teams V.
Chapter 412: Two Teams V
Ewan left the bleeding girl where she writhed on the floor, clutching at her wounded leg, her defiance still
smoldering in her glare even through the pain. He ignored her spit, ignored her muttered curses, and pressed his
ear to the heavy door she had been guarding.
Silence.
He tilted his head, listening harder. No shuffling. No voices. Nothing that betrayed what lay behind the barrier.
His jaw tightened. The silence could mean one of two things: the room was empty, or someone inside was
waiting—poised, breath held, gun raised.
"Not even going to say anything when your life’s already hanging by a thread?" he muttered, half to the girl.
He turned his head slightly, his voice carrying the sharp edge of a threat. "One word could save you from
bleeding out. Say nothing, and maybe I will blow off your other leg."
She glared, lips pressed into a thin line. Not a sound. Not even a flinch.
Loyalty.
Ewan breathed out slowly. Sometimes he hated the word."
He reached up, fingers tugging on the strap of his helmet. It was still snug, but he adjusted anyway, tightening it
until it pinched at his jaw. The last thing he needed was a stray bullet glancing off and knocking it loose.
He tested the chin-strap twice, ensuring it was secure, then rolled his shoulders, loosening the tension in his
muscles.
With one last breath, he lifted his boot and drove it hard into the door.
The lock splintered, the door swinging open violently, banging against the wall. His pistol was already raised,
finger curled on the trigger.
And then—he froze.
A man stood in the middle of the room, gun pressed firmly against the head of a boy no older than twelve—
Ciara's little brother.
The boy’s wide eyes were glassy with terror, tears streaking his cheeks, his small chest heaving with shallow
breaths. Behind them, Ciara’s parents trembled, both bound, both crying, both whispering prayers that seemed
to go unheard.
"Move," the criminal snarled, pressing the barrel tighter against the boy’s temple, "and a bullet goes into his
head."
Ewan’s eyes narrowed. His gaze flicked quickly over the man. It-was-white singlet. Faded blue boxers. Feet bare.
His hair was unkempt, sweat beading on his forehead.
Not a good shooter or thug. Not even ready. Ewan concluded.
The latter must have rushed here when the shooting started, too desperate to save his life. He had chosen to
make a last stand with the nearest leverage available—innocents.
"You wouldn't want to do that," Ewan said evenly.
"Oh?" The criminal grinned, though his lips trembled. "Trust me, it would be my utmost pleasure. But | want to
know who you are first."
Ewan tilted his head, gun still trained. "So you think Ill answer your questions if you keep them alive? Trading
their lives for information?"
The man nodded, quick, eager. "Exactly. My boss would appreciate that more than their dead bodies. They're not
useful—just pawns to keep spies under control."
"Spies?" Ewan’s tone was cold. "You mean Ciara."
The fellow smirked at the recognition. "So you found her out, then. Stupid girl who can’t get anything right. She'll
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇtpay for it, don’t worry..." He paused, a cruel light flashing in his eyes. "That's if you haven't punished her already
for aiding and abetting a cragainst the state."
Ewan’s lips pressed into a hard line. He didn’t blink. Didn't lower his weapon.
"I think that’s for us to decide," he replied quietly. "Now tell me, do you want to do this the easy way—or do you
want to lose a leg like your comrade outside?"
For a moment, the criminal’s bravado cracked. His brow furrowed. "You cut off her leg?"
The man’s grip tightened on the gun. Ewan could see the tremor, the unstable pulse of his hand. The wrong
word, the wrong twitch, and the little boy would be gone.
| have to put him away now. Ewan thought, jaw clenched.
His thumb brushed against the cool steel of his pistol, but an idea sparked in his mind. Slowly, deliberately, he
loosened his grip on the gun.
"Wait," he said. His voice softened, dipped into something persuasive. "I'll make you a trade. Information—for
their lives."
The criminal’s eyes narrowed suspiciously.
Ewan tilted the pistol away, lowering it slightly. "You want to know who | am? Fine. But you'll have to let them
live. I'll even throw my gun down."
The man’s lips curved into a shaky grin. "Now you're talking. Drop it. Slowly."
Ewan nodded, keeping his movements smooth, deliberate. He crouched, lowering his pistol to the floor, inch by
inch, making a show of compliance. His heart hammered, but his face betrayed nothing. The gun clinked softly
as it touched the ground.
"Good," the criminal said, his grin widening. He shifted his gun from the boy’s head and pointed it squarely at
Ewan. "Now stand up. Slowly. Hands where | can see them."
Ewan obeyed, rising to his feet, palms open, expression calm.
The criminal took steps forward, eager to claim the discarded weapon. His focus was split—on Ewan, on the gun
he was bending to retrieve, on his own arrogance. And that was enough.
Ewan’s thumb tapped fast, the small button on the strap at his thigh. A sharp, high-pitched chirp echoed in the
room—the alarm for backup. The sound made the man flinch, head snapping toward the unexpected noise.
That was all the distraction Ewan needed.
In a fluid motion, his hand darted to his waist, fingers wrapping around the hilt of the knife nestled there. His arm
whipped forward, muscles flexing, and the blade spun through the air with deadly precision.
The knife buried itself into the man’s throat with a sickening thunk, before the latter could realise what had
happened.
His eyes widened in shock, mouth opening soundlessly as he dropped both weapons, hands clawing at his neck.
Blood spilled over his chest, bubbling from his lips as he crumpled to the floor.
Silence fell. Only the sobs of Ciara’s family remained.
Ewan bent, picked up his gun, and slid it back into his grip with the familiarity of a man who had done this too
many times before. His chest rose and fell with steady breaths, though inside, the adrenaline still burned like fire.
He strode toward the family. "Are you okay?" His voice was softer now, steadier.
He crouched, tugging at the ropes that bound their wrists. The cords cloose, and he tossed them aside.
Ciara's mother clutched her son, tears wetting her face. The father rubbed his wrists, his lips parting as if to
speak.
"Follow me," Ewan said firmly, helping them to their feet. Their legs were shaky, their faces pale, but they
obeyed. "Keep your questions for later. We need to leave."
He glanced toward the shattered window. Sirens were wailing in the distance, faint but growing louder. The police
were coming. And so, no doubt, was the backup for the gang.
He ushered them out into the hallway. Sandro stood there, backing them, gun raised, his head jerking here and
there, eyes wide as if expecting shadows to leap out.
Ewan chuckled, a low rumble in his chest. "They're all gone."
Sandro spun at the sound of his voice, weapon still aimed.
"You going to shoot me?" Ewan teased dryly.
Sandro scoffed, lowering the gun to his side. Relief flashed across his face, though he tried to mask it with
irritation. "Let’s go. The police will be here any second. Neighbors must have tipped them off."
"Probably," Ewan said, falling into step. He motioned for Ciara's family to walk ahead, keeping himself at the
rear, every sense alert.
As they hurried down the stairs, he asked, "Did we lose any of our men?"
"No," Sandro replied quickly, though his brow furrowed. "But we have a lot of injured. Good thing you insisted on
the truck. You really do make plans like your ex-wife—first the helmets and army gear, now the transport."
Ewan snorted softly, lips quirking. "Like you don’t know what attacking the gang entails."
"And Zane?" He asked, seconds later.Chapter 413: Being Present
Chapter 413: Being Present
"Your mind seems occupied. And you have barely touched your food. Is the food not to your liking?" Antonio’s
voice was able to coax Athena from her thoughts about the mission she wasn’t present in.
Were her people okay? Were any injured? Especially those that had gone to the gang’s hideout. Were they hurt?
She swallowed, her throat bobbing as she forced her focus back to the present, and picked up her cutlery with
slightly trembling fingers.
Herbert would not be pleased if something happened to Zane, unhappier if he got to find out that they had gone
on a mission to retrieve Ciara's parents—she wasn’t sure if Zane would be able to keep the truth from his father
if he cback injured.
She mumbled a prayer of protection mentally, her lips pressing together as she glanced at the ton her
wristwatch. They should be rounding up the mission by now.
However, Athena looking at her watch passed the wrong message to Antonio. He frowned, his brows knitting
together.
"Am | boring you? Do you want to go home?"
Athena frowned back, finally meeting his gaze. The cutlery, which had been dancing aimlessly on her plate,
stilled in her hand.
"What do you mean, Antonio? | never said you were boring me."
Antosighed, leaning slightly away from the table and looking aside, his jaw tightening. "You act like I am. |
have been the only one talking, and even then, your attention isn’t witha hundred percent."
Athena rubbed the middle of her forehead with the tips of her fingers, wishing she could tell Antoeverything
—because then he would understand. But the need not to burden him with problems, the need to obey her
grandfather, triumphed over that wish.
So, she sucked on her lower lip and scooped food into her mouth thereafter, after a second of silence.
"I'm not bored, Antonio. I'm just occupied with solving the recent case ravaging the state, or will soon be. You
should understand my place in the situation of things... | have to find the cure to the new virus..."
"It's possible there isn’t any yet. It’s possible that you finding out the location had upended their plans. You
should think about the positives only. Or did you find something else to prove that they already have a working
drug with them to release mayhem?"
Athena shook her head slowly, her eyes lowering to her plate. "Just a hunch."
Antosighed again, softer this time, and reached across the table for her left hand, engulfing her soft hand
with his warm, steady one. "Quit worrying too much, Athena. It’s not good for your health. You are a doctor, so
you must know this. You should always be in the present."
"Yes, | should be." Easier said than done. "Thanks, Antonio."
She scooped another portion into her mouth, but even as she did so, even as she tried to focus on Antonio
talking about his day at work, even as she tried to forcefully take spoonfuls of food so as not to trigger Antonio's
questions again, her mind kept derailing before she could help it—toward the mission, toward Ewan.
She hadn’t gotten an update from him since the last one where he had informed her they would be going into
position in the next five minutes. She had wished him well before returning to her task. But now, she was
wondering why she hadn't called him. If things did go awry...
"So, tellabout yours? What did you do at the lab if you had nothing to work with?"
Athena licked her lower lip nervously, counting herself lucky that she had heard her boyfriend this time.
"Just working with my hunch... adding and subtracting chemicals to the Grey virus compound, should anything
happen..."
Antodidn’t look like he believed her. His brows arched slightly, his lips pressing in a thin line.
Athena bit her lips, then decided to bite the bullet. "Okay, we invaded a certain hideout of the Demon Vipers
gang..."
"What!"
Antonio’s shout attracted the attention of the other diners, seventy percent of whom had just been to the
cinema which was just close by moments ago, like the couple.
A few turned to look, whispers starting at nearby tables.
"Antonio, calm down."
"Calm down? How can | calm down? My girlfriend went into a gang’s hideout without lettingknow!"
But his voice had gone considerably lower now, his hand leaving hers to clench into a fist against the tablecloth.
"I never said | did go..."
Antoraised a brow sharply. "Then what do you mean by ‘we’? Who went for the mission?"
Athena shrugged lightly. "Members of the state security. They received a tip-off."
She lied through her teeth, making the drastic decision to keep the matter too from Antoafter seeing his
reaction. The last thing she needed tonight was to feel the need to defend her actions, or try to appease her
boyfriend.
She just wanted to hear from Ewan, to know if everything had gone well, to know if he was okay. Her fingers
itched to touch her phone, but she had kept from reaching for it because then Antowould get curious if she
turned away to make the call—if he knew it was Ewan.
"Oh..." Antoexhaled, relief washing over his features. "When you said we... | thought that meant you..." A
pause. "So continue your story..."
Athena drank water from a glass cup, taking deliberate, careful sips. She cleaned her mouth with a serviette,
folding it neatly and placing it beside her plate before resting her hands on her lap.
Antowatched this series of actions with a frown, not pleased with the half-eaten food on her plate.
"I would have ordered something else if | knew you didn’t like the food."
Athena shook her head lightly, strands of hair falling forward. "Being in the lab had sucked out my appetite
without my knowledge... you know, a lot of chemicals..."
Antonodded slowly. "I see. So, continue your story."
Athena held back a sigh, forcing her tone to stay calm. "They reported scenting a certain chemical... | asked
them to describe it..."Chapter 414: Being Present II
Chapter 414: Being Present II
Athena was more interested in pushing her thoughts away so that she wouldn't worry much, than in the question
she had asked Antonio; however, she was mildly curious.
Seeing as he was canceling out the option of working with a hunch, what alternative did he have for her to curb
the situation in the country, the panic that had ensued in the state?
When she had left the lab—because she had stopped him from coming to pick her, mentioning that he wait
outside the cinema for her—she had been approached by a couple of her neighbors, a couple of frightened
neighbors, who wanted her firsthand comment on the issue, if they had any reason to be concerned.
She had spent about ten minutes assuring them everything was okay. That was apart from those who had
approached her after the movies... and her boyfriend was telling her not to worry?
As she pondered on this, she was more curious to know his reply, to even know what he was thinking, seeing as
he looked to be in deep thought.
"Antonio..." she called, when she was sure two minutes had passed. Her tone was soft, but carried an edge of
impatience. "What do you think | should do? Go to sleep and hope everything will be better?"
"That will be better than spending hours on wrong information."
Athena chuckled, though the sound carried mild irritation. "Sleep? With the unrest plaguing the state? Is that
what you are suggesting? That's your big idea?"
She shook her head slowly when he said nothing, only staring at her with furrowed brows, like he couldn't
understand why she wasn’t getting his point.
"Do you sleep, Antonio, when something is going wrong at your workplace, maybe when numbers aren’t adding
up, when your sales aren’t going the way you want it to..."
Antoswallowed and ran his hand from the top of his head to the base behind, as if trying to straighten the
mass of hair that was already in place.
"It's not a rhetorical question, darling..."
Antofrowned then, detecting the sarcastic tilt to ‘darling.’ His lips pressed thin, his eyes darkened.
"I would try to find out what's happening." He muttered, letting the matter go. He was at fault for rousing the
sleeping dragon.
Yet, how could he let her worry over nothing? Business was different from medicine after all. Numbers were
different from chemicals. They were clearer. Less complicated.
"You see? That's the sthing I'm trying to do here. I'm trying to find out what's going on. As the business
somehow depends on your intelligence, on your ability to spot the wrongs and right it, so do the lives of people
depend on me. Don’t you get it? | bear a heavy burden of people’s lives. I'm not complaining... | love helping—
but it also puts onthe need to find out what's going on if there is a probability of something coming to hurt
them."
"I see." Antomurmured, though Athena wondered if he really saw.
She sighed, reaching for her phone and checking the screen. About nine p.m. She had to leave.
Just then her phone dinged with a message. She muttered an "excuse me" to Antowhen she saw it was from
Gianna, and picked up her phone again.
"I'm coming hwith svisitors. It's a surprise."
Athena’s face contorted into a frown, not sure what to make of the message. But knowing that her friend
wouldn't surprise her with a bad gift released the tension on her shoulders, face, and body, rather making her
eager to go home.
"I need to leave," she stated, looking up from the phone.
"Is there a problem?"
She shook her head. "I have visitors coming, according to Gianna... need to welcthem."
Antosmiled faintly, picking his phone from the table. "That's interesting. | would love to see them too...
maybe make an acquaintance... no one that knows you enough to visit is mediocre..."
The last sentence sort of displaced Athena mentally for a second. What did that mean? Was her boyfriend that
shallow, to judge people by their pockets or status?
But he was already calling for the server, and she gave him the benefit of the doubt. Maybe she was
misinterpreting it. Maybe the statement wasn’t as deep as it had sounded.
"Did Gianna give you a name... you know, for the visitors?" Antoasked as they walked out of the restaurant
together.
"No, she didn’t. Says it's a surprise." She thanked Antowhen he opened the door for her to slide into the car.
"But who do you think is coming?"
Athena paused, adjusting her bag on her lap. "I don’t know really. | haven't the mind to pick and cross out
options," she answered when he stepped into the car.
Her phone dinged with another message, pulling her eyes back to it. Ewan.
"We are home." The message read, causing her heart to palpitate both with relief and nervousness.
Antocouldn't take her home. How could she have forgotten so soon about the recap that would take place at
home?
She licked her lower lip, her mind racing as Antostarted the car, prepping her tongue on how to break the
news which she knew wouldn't sit well with her boyfriend.
"Antonio, just got a message from Chelsea. | have to pick her up from a junction, so that we can head home
together... her car developed sfault."
Antogave her a cute smile, dimples appearing faintly. "Oh, don’t worry. We can pick her up. That's not a
problem."Chapter 415: More Guests
Chapter 415: More Guests
Athena received and gave greetings as she entered into the Thorne’s Mansion.
As she stepped out of the car Rodney had driven, her steps hurried even though she wanted them slower—her
curiosity wouldn't pay heed to her mental instructions. Her heels clicked softly against the polished tiles, and she
clutched her bag a little tighter, breath shallow with expectation.
After leaving Antonio, she had immediately called Rodney while walking back to the restaurant so that her driver
would find it easier to spot her in the throng of people going here and there.
Now, she lifted her hand in a small wave at Aiden as she spotted him talking on the phone near the porch. He
caught sight of her, his lips still moving in conversation, and beckoned her over with a hand gesture, his brows
raised in acknowledgment.
Athena leaned forward slightly when she arrived, mouthing, "Everyone is in there?" She exhaled in relief when
Aiden nodded, just before ending the call.
"Who was that?" she asked, tilting her head.
"The chief of security... asking questions above his paygrade, wanting to know where I've been."
Athena scoffed, folding her arms across her chest. "Do you think that he is working with the gang?"
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Athena smiled faintly, hugging him by the side and resting her cheek briefly against his shoulder. "How did the
mission go?"
The cloud of mixed feelings that overtook Aiden’s face then was enough to make Athena wince, her heart
dropping to her stomach. She reached for his arm, searching his expression. "That bad?"
Aiden sighed, his shoulders slumping. "I think we should go inside. There's a lot to talk about, that’s after dealing
with your visitors."
Again with the visitors,
Athena thought, nodding slowly. It would mean that when Gianna had called, she was already close to the house.
Athena snorted softly under her breath; her friend must have thought she would check the info out, to find out
the identity of the visitors, hence the close-range surprise.
Her curiosity piqued, she followed Aiden out of the porch and into the larger living room, the faint scent of
lavender and wood polish washing over her.
She stopped short, a smile cracking across her lips when she saw the visitors, her attention snagged
immediately by them because they were occupying the central sofa facing the entrance directly: it was Areso
and her mother!
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"A Thorne, eh?" Areso whispered in her ears, both of them dissolving into bouts of laughter as they disengaged,
still holding each other's arms.
Next up was Areso’s mother, Jessica, who already had tears streaming down her eyes. The sight alone alerted
Athena that the woman must have connected the dots, must have known her true identity—that she was the
daughter of the latter's mentor.
"Athena, my love..." Jessica muttered, her voice trembling as she hugged Athena tightly, not ready to let go even
as the seconds ticked by. Her arms shook as she clung to her. "I am sorry."
She kept muttering it over and over, even though Athena whispered back, telling her not to apologize, that it
wasn’t her fault the first time.
Jessica finally disengaged, dabbing at her cheeks, yet the crying episode was far from over. "Maybe if | had told
your grandmother about the pregnancy, about my latter suspicions of when Emily had given birth..."
Athena shook her head firmly, taking Jessica’s hands. "It's okay, Aunt Jess. There was no way you would have
known how things had gone..."
Jessica nodded, but the tears just wouldn't stop streaming, even with Athena wiping them off her cheeks
intermittently, her thumbs soft and reassuring.
"Since | found out, | wanted to come, but | was scared you might be angry with me..."
Athena chuckled softly, shaking her head, brushing a strand of hair from Jessica's damp face.
"But your grandmother invitedto the party happening tomorrow, and | thought to risk your wrath." Jessica
sniffed, managing a weak smile through the tears. "I am pleased you are not angry with me."
Athena nodded warmly and hugged the mother of her good friend again, squeezing gently, seeing in her more
than just a mother but a good elder figure too.
"You are welcome, Aunt Jess... Hope you are comfortable..." She continued, turning aside to look for her
grandmother, only to stop short, struggling to keep a blank face when her gaze landed on who was sitting with
Nathaniel on a sofa right beside her grandmother.
Antonio.
Her steps faltered, and she instinctively stepped back, resisting the urge to call him out harshly for a talk outside
—it wouldn't be a good tip to Ewan, whom she could see had his attention on his phone.
Whether it was pretense or not, she didn’t know, but she was suddenly uncomfortable, her pulse skipping.
"Yes, | am comfortable," Jessica answered beside her, unaware of the turmoil Athena was going through, Athena
who was quickly scanning the room, doing a check of the people present.
It was the usual gang, with her friends and children. Antowas the odd one sticking out.
She bit back a sigh at the thought. Antowasn’t the odd one out. He was her boyfriend, should be family, but...
but she had told him not to chere, to go home! Had she escaped from him only to meet a worse scenario?
Inhaling deeply, she forced composure and winked at her grandmother, who raised a brow knowingly. Of course
the woman had detected the one-second distress shown on her face.
"Yes. | am comfortable," she heard Jessica say again, and Athena returned her attention to the latter with a quick
smile. "I'm glad. Please, have a seat."
Then she moved and greeted her
grandparents, her friends, and finally
fell to her knees to hu her children
who PoRpEPd Ha eNs kisses,
thei litt e arms wrapping around her
neck. She laughed through the
affection, willfully keeping her eyes
from straying again in the direction of
Antoor Ewan. The content is on
novelenglish.net! Read the latest
chapter there!
"How was your day?" she asked her little ones when they disengaged from the hug, brushing Kathleen's hair
back.
"Good. We aced our tests," Kathleen chimed excitedly, bouncing lightly on her toes.
Athena dropped a kiss on each of their faces. "That's beautiful. I'll bake you my infamous cake."
"Yeahhh!" the children shouted in unison, causing chuckles to bloom across the room, with Sandro immediately
clamoring for his share of the infamous cake.
Athena laughed and got to her feet. "Unless you are planning on being a side chef, Sandro, you are not getting a
cake."
Sandro shrugged tically, his grin mischievous. "I can do side chef. Anything at all to taste that cake | had a
few months ago."
More laughter rippled through the room, joined by more playful requests to taste the cake, as Athena with her
children made her way to sit on the ssofa with her smiling grandfather.
"So, when are we expecting the cake, darling?" Antoteased suddenly, smiling innocently at Athena, his eyes
fixed warmly on her.
She forced a smile on her lips, hiding the tightening in her chest. "Maybe Sunday? You all are invited."
Athena swallowed, forcing her expression to remain calm. "She was specific incoming alone. | think
something must have happened."
Antoturned off the engine, his face squinching in confusion. "If something happened, then she would need
more help..."
Athena sighed tically, rolling her eyes as though she had no more patience for the conversation. "This is
girl stuff, darling. Don’t worry, we will be fine."
Then she leaned forward and kissed his lips, easing the lines of worry on his face.
"I will be fine," she murmured, maintaining the closeness, eyes open and meeting his, which kept drifting to her
lips.
She gave him what she knew he wanted, going as far as slipping her hand into his shirt, only parting when he
groaned, when his hands teased the end of her blouse.
"I will see you soon?" her voice cout in a throaty whisper.
He nodded meekly, watching as she stylishly got out of his car with her bag, without fanning out the flames she
had started.
"They can scent chemicals now? Can even describe it?"
Athena cocked a brow, one that expressed her incoming irritation at being interrupted; her fuse was already
running low.
"Sorry, please continue."
"They didn’t get the description like | would if | was there, but it was enough to tellthat the gang was plotting
something else with the unknown sponsor of the Grey virus. And that’s what | am working with."
"The untrue description of a scent... don’t you think that’s far-fetched?"
When he saw her lips press into a grim line, he quickly threw his hands up in surrender.
"Just saying, darling. Just saying. Wouldn't want you wasting your tover someone's wrong description."
Athena leaned back into her chair, arms folding loosely across her chest, her expression taut.
"So, what do you think I should do?"
Sandro hesitated for a beat, then nodded. "He'll be fine."
sok
Dear Readers,
I'm excited to share that tomorrow, instead of the usual 2 Chapters, there will be 6 Chapters released!
This special drop is because two milestones were met:
The book has now received 40 Golden Tickets, which unlocks 2 extra Chapters.
And thanks to the super gift received, I'll be adding another extra 2 Chapters (even though this wasn't part of
the conditions | listed earlier this month, | believe it deserves a reward!).
Thank you all for your continued support—it truly means the world.
Thanks to Melanie specially, for the super gift!
Stay tuned for tomorrow's big release! And keep voting with your GT to unlock more releases!
Her scream split the air, high and raw. She crumpled, gun clattering as she fell.
Ewan rolled his eyes, exhaling harshly as the tension broke. He pushed off the wall and stepped out from cover,
limping slightly, gun still raised.
"Don’t," he said sharply, when her hand twitched toward her weapon. His voice carried steel, cold and final. "If
you want to live, don’t."
Her hand went limp. Her face twisted with pain, but she didn’t reach for the gun again.
Ewan bent down, picked the weapon up, and straightened with a wince.
"Is there someone in there?" he asked, jerking his chin toward the door behind her. His voice was flat, no-
nonsense.
The girl glared at him, and spat on the ground.
"You don’t know who you've angered," she hissed. "You don’t know what you've brought upon yourself..."
Ewan tilted his head, his face unreadable. Then, with a faint shrug, he replied, "I actually do. And if you knew
who I am, you wouldn't be so optimistic about my downfall."
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