Chapter 15

Vincent White's face turned deathly pale, beads of sweat forming on his forehead.

"Miss Sullivan... I was just running my mouth..." His voice trembled as he suddenly slapped himself hard across the face. "Please don't take it to heart..."

The sharp sound of the slap echoed through the hallway.

Evelyn Sullivan watched coldly, only withdrawing her foot when his cheek swelled red. She walked away without sparing him another glance.

Vincent glared at her retreating figure, his eyes burning with venom.

Ethan Sullivan stood at the stairwell landing, his gaze dark and unreadable.

He had never seen this side of Evelyn before—sharp, decisive, like an unsheathed blade.

"Ethan," Lucas Laurier approached, "that White kid holds grudges. Aren't you going to step in?"

"She didn't ask me." Ethan turned toward the private room, his tone indifferent, as if discussing a stranger.

Lucas raised an eyebrow. "She's still your wife."

"Not for long." Ethan paused mid-step. "She filed for divorce."

"What?" Lucas's eyes widened. "But she's not—"

The door to the private room swung open, revealing Alexander King. "You two planning to stand guard out here all night?"

After several rounds of drinks, Ethan's phone lit up briefly before going dark.

The screen displayed an alert from the villa's security system: Someone was unlocking the front gate.

He set down his glass, knocking over another in his haste to stand.

"In a hurry?" Lucas teased.

Ethan didn't respond, striding out of the room without another word.

At the villa entrance, Evelyn pushed open the door, a black backpack slung over her shoulder.

Moonlight outlined her slender frame, her ponytail swaying slightly with the movement.

"Where are you going?" Ethan's voice came from the shadows.

Evelyn's fingers twitched. Surprise flickered in her eyes as she turned.

"Business trip."

Ethan stepped closer, catching the faint scent of gunpowder on her. "At midnight?"

"Move." She glanced at her watch, her voice turning icy.

As they stood locked in tension, Ethan heard a soft beep.

Evelyn's lips parted. "Three."

His pupils constricted.

"Two."

A sharp sting pricked the back of his neck.

"One."

Darkness swallowed him whole.

When he woke again, sunlight flooded the living room. Rubbing his temples, Ethan sat up to find the villa empty.

"Colin," he rasped into the phone, "track Evelyn's whereabouts."

Deep in the rainforest, gunfire sent birds scattering into the sky.

"Cross the river and we're safe!" The team leader raised his arm—just as a bullet tore through his forehead.

Evelyn lay hidden in the canopy, the river's ripples reflecting in her sniper scope.

"Wrap it up." Vulture's voice crackled in her earpiece. "Scorpion is down."

As she moved to stand, every hair on her body stood on end.

She fired backward without looking, dropping the ambusher as his bullet grazed her cheek.

"Nice shot!" Vulture whistled.

Evelyn wiped away the blood and severed the comms without ceremony.

Three days later, in the Sullivan Group CEO office...

Colin Keller hesitantly handed over a file. "Sir, this is everything on Miss Sullivan..."

Ethan opened it, his gaze freezing on the first page—a photograph of Evelyn holding a rifle, a military base visible in the background.