the windows. deep in conversation.
‘Well, look who finally decided to join us,” Sean drawled when he spotted me, “You know, some of us have been up all night dealing with your mess while you were upstairs comforting your wife. Talk about priorities?
“Sean,” I replied evenly, ‘I don’t recall asking for your opinion.”
“Hey, all I’m saying is that I had to clean up after your little bloodbath back there,” Sean complained, though there was no real heat in his voice. “Do you have any idea how hard it is to dispose of three bodies without leaving evidence? In my defense, I’m a doctor- I’m supposed to save lives, not hide corpses!”
Ethan’s quiet assistant Arya appeared with a tray of tea, setting it on the coffee table.
“I thought you might need this,” she said softly, her eyes lingering on Ethan.
“Thank you,” Ethan replied, his voice gentler than I’d heard it all night. “It’s late. You should get some rest now.”
Arya hesitated, clearly reluctant to leave. “But-
“Go on,” Ethan insisted. “Summer’s room is right next to yours. Keep an ear out in case she needs anything.”
“Alright,” Arya conceded. “I’ll be upstairs if you need me, right next to Summer.”
“Thank you, Arya,” I acknowledged.
Once Arya had disappeared upstairs, I turned to the others. “Mexican hitmen,” I stated without preamble. “Three of them. They said someone paid top dollar for my head.”
“Well, well, Sean grinned, leaning forward. “Brandon Stark, making enemies in style. Professionals, no less! Though I have to say, your combat skills have improved–almost up to Ethan’s level now. Who knew our finance prodigy was secretly Rambo?
“Want a demonstration?” I asked coolly.
Sean held up his hands in mock surrender. “Pass! I’m a lover, not a fighter. Besides, I’m way more interested in who hates you enough to hire international assassins. That some serious grudge territory.”
“Let’s focus,” Ethan cut in, his expression serious. “Brandon, what’s your assessment?”
I considered the question carefully. “I’ve made plenty of enemies on Wall Street over the years, but none who would resort to something like this. Business rivals might try to ruin me financially or socially, but murder? Especially using Mexican hitmen? It doesn’t fit.”
“Agreed,” Edward said, setting down his cup. “Most of your business enemies are far too concerned with their own reputations to risk
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something so messy. Besides, the weaponry these men carried was military–grade. This wasn’t just a hit–it was a coordinated attack designed to eliminate you with extreme prejudice. And the ambush your estate was a backup plan, indicating whoever planned
this wasn’t taking chances.”
“There’s something else, Edward continued, his expression grim. “Something that doesn’t add up.”
“What’s that?” I asked, though I had my suspicions.
“Based on the communications we intercepted,” Edward explained, “they had different orders regarding Summer. They were instructed to kill you but capture her alive.”
Ethan nodded in confirmation. “When I intercepted them, they were flearly trying to run Summer off the road without causing fatal damage. One of the men admitted as much before I killed him. They wanted your wife alive, Brandon.”
A cold fury settled in my chest. “Who would want Summer? She doesn’t have enemies–certainly none capable of organizing something like this.”
“That’s what makes this unusual,” Ethan observed: “Summer seems an unlikely target for international assassins. Which suggests…”
“That she was targeted because of her connection to me,” I finished. But not many people know about our marriage.”
“Perhaps it’s not about your marriage specifically,” Edward suggested. “Maybe someone discovered she’s important to you and decided to use her as leverage.”
Or there’s something about Summer herself we’re missing,” Sean added, unusually serious for once.
I thought of the Taylor family, of all the strangeness surrounding Summer’s relationship with them. There had always been something off there–something I hadn’t quite figured out yet despite my investigations.
“I’ll get to the bottom of this,” I stated with cold determination. “Whatever it takes.”
The others exchanged glances but didn’t argue. They knew me well enough to recognize when I’d made up my mind.
“In the meantime,” Ethan said, “I suggest you both stay here. Your Hamptons estate is compromised, and we need time to ensure it’s secure again.”
I nodded in agreement. “Summer’s safety is my priority.”
“And finding out who’s trying to kill you should be a close second,” Sean pointed out dryly.
“Yes,” I replied, my voice hardening. “Finding out who’s behind this and making them pay.”
After finalizing our plans, the others prepared to leave. I felt in my pocket and turned to Ethan. “I owe you one
Ethan smiled slightly. “I thought you’d be upset that I scared her.” He reflected on Summer witnessing his lethal skills earlier. “At least it was me she saw in action, not you.” He added, “Though I have to say, she’s got some nerve. No screaming, no fainting- pretty impressive.”
Most people would have completely fallen apart witnessing what Summer had seen tonight, but she’d remained composed, if a bit shocked. Ethan narrowed his eyes thoughtfully, as if reminded of something from his past.
I frowned slightly but still said, “Whatever the case, I appreciate your help today.”
“It’s late, Ethan replied. “Go get some rest.”
After I headed upstairs, Ethan pulled out a pack of cigarettes from his pants pocket. His long fingers extracted one, holding it
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between two fingers as his unfocused eyes stared out the window.
That night, James, Desmond, and Landon cleared out all the assassins lying in wait near the Hamptons estate. There weren’t that many, but each was highly skilled. If I had returned home alone, ever with my combat abilities, I couldn’t have handled so many
attackers at once.
‘Sir, all targets have been neutralized. What are your next orders?” James reported over the phone.
“Good work. Take the day off tomorrow–you’ve earned it,” I replied, ending the call. Turning back, I saw Summer still peacefully asleep. I smiled, walking over to pull up the blanket she’d kicked off in her sleep. As I started to move away, her hand suddenly shot out, grabbing mine firmly.
“Brandon,” she murmured, still half–asleep, “don’t go.”
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