Shadows Beneath the Surface
The silence that followed was heavier than gunfire. Ethan's gaze lingered on the dark skyline beyond the window, the flicker of city lights reflecting in his eyes. Beside him, Clara stood still, her fingers trembling slightly as they brushed the edge of the table.
"Ethan…" she started softly, but he didn't turn.
He knew. She could feel it in the way his shoulders tensed — the way his jaw clenched as if holding back words that might shatter them both.
"Don't," he said finally, his voice low. "Not now."
The air between them thickened. Since Aiden's return, the mansion had felt smaller, the air sharper. His presence lingered even when he wasn't there — like a ghost whispering unfinished truths.
Aiden had come back claiming peace, offering to help Ethan uncover Victor's next move. But Ethan didn't trust him. Not after what he'd done — not after the first kidnapping. And yet, Clara couldn't ignore the way Aiden had looked at her that night, his eyes shadowed with something she couldn't name.
Clara stepped closer. "You can't keep pushing everyone away, Ethan. He said—"
Ethan spun, eyes dark. "He said what?"
Her breath hitched. "That he's changed."
A bitter smile curved his lips. "People like Aiden don't change. They just learn better ways to hide their motives."
Before Clara could answer, the intercom buzzed. Ethan crossed the room, pressing the button. "Yes?"
"Sir," came the guard's voice, edged with tension. "You'll want to see this. There's movement near the south gate — someone left a message."
Ethan's eyes narrowed. "A message?"
"Yes, sir. It's… a flower."
A chill ran through Clara. "A flower?" she echoed.
The guard hesitated. "A single white rose… tied with a black ribbon."
Ethan didn't move for a moment, then turned to Clara. "Stay here."
But she caught his arm. "Ethan—please—"
He met her eyes, and for a heartbeat, his anger faltered. He wanted to protect her, but she was already tangled in the danger he'd tried to keep her from.
"I'll be careful," he said quietly. "Lock the doors behind me."
As the door shut, Clara's chest tightened. She moved toward the window, watching the shadows stretch across the courtyard. Somewhere out there, Aiden and Victor were moving — two ghosts from their pasts, both circling closer.
Down at the gate, the white rose waited under the light, petals trembling in the wind. Ethan crouched, eyes scanning every detail. The black ribbon was silky, expensive — too deliberate to be random. And there, tied beneath it, was a note.
He unfolded it carefully. One word written in red ink:
"Soon."
The paper was faintly scented — familiar, almost mocking.
Ethan's jaw hardened. "Aiden," he muttered. But deep down, a darker thought whispered — what if it wasn't him this time?
Inside, Clara sat by the window, unaware that a pair of eyes watched her from the shadows beyond the garden wall.
Aiden's voice was barely a whisper. "You shouldn't be part of this, Clara."
He stepped back into the darkness, leaving no trace but the faint scent of roses and danger.
And far across the city, Victor poured himself a drink, smirking as he glanced at the file on his desk — the one marked 'Ethan Knight – Termination'.
The real war had begun, and this time, there would be no winners.