CHAPTER 3: THE FIRST ARRIVAL
The kitchen doors exploded open.
Not violently—but with precision.
Three men entered first. Black suits. No badges. No hesitation. They scanned the room like it was already controlled territory.
Then came the medic team.
A stretcher.
A trauma kit.
A woman in tactical scrubs immediately dropped beside Mara without asking permission.
“Seven months pregnant. Possible internal trauma. Get her stable now.”
Ethan stepped forward.
“Stop. This is my house.”
One of the suited men turned slightly.
Just enough.
“Sir,” he said calmly, “step back.”
Not a threat.
A fact.
Ethan’s jaw tightened. “You don’t understand who I am—”
“I understand exactly who you are,” the man replied.
That silence after the sentence was worse than any insult.
Vanessa moved closer to Ethan now, but she wasn’t holding him anymore.
She was hiding behind him.
Mara was lifted gently onto the stretcher. She winced—but didn’t cry. Her eyes stayed open, locked on Ethan the entire time.
Not fear.
Recognition.
Like she was finally seeing him without filters.
Ethan followed a step.
“Where are you taking her?”
May you like
The lead medic didn’t look at him.
“Somewhere you will not be.”
