SWNOVELS Chapter 32
One week later…
The crisp night air brushes against my skin as I step out of the car; the familiar sight of our home offers no comfort tonight. Every shadow seems to stretch longer, every sound a potential whisper of danger. I’m trying—really trying—to focus on the tiny life within me, the son whose grand entrance into the world we’re so eagerly awaiting. But a relentless unease clings to me, a persistent shroud I can’t seem to shake.
We’re returning from having a nice dinner downtown. As much as I enjoy our date nights, part of me wanted nothing more than to stay home, where I know it’s safe.
“I felt it again today,” I mutter, leaning against Luk as we walk toward the front door. “It’s like an evil pair of eyes on me at all times. I know it sounds silly, but…”
Luk’s arm tightens around me, his presence always a solid reassurance. “It’s not silly. Unfortunately, the life we lead causes us to make a lot of enemies. I’ll have the guys sweep the area again, just to be sure.”
“But it’s been quiet, hasn’t it?” I try to convince myself as much as him. “Since Sharon, since all that was sorted out?”
“It has,” he agrees, pressing a kiss to the top of my head as we step inside. But the warmth of our home does little to ease the chill in my bones. “But we can’t afford to be complacent, not with our little one on the way.”
The baby kicks as if to remind me that he’s there, thriving despite the shadows that continue to lurk. I place a hand on my belly, a smile tugging at my lips despite the fears. “He’s active tonight.” Luk smiles in response, that fierce, protective glint never leaving his eyes.
We settle into the living room, the fire crackling a soft, comforting hymn. “I can’t help but feel that somehow Sharon is still a danger to us, even from the grave,” I confess, the name tasting like poison on my tongue. “I know she’s dead, but there were still a few left who were loyal to her. I’m scared they’ll come after us to avenge her.”
Luk’s jaw tightens, his hand finding mine, squeezing gently. “I won’t let anything happen to you or our baby. I promise you that. Anyone who thinks they can threaten my family will have to go through me first.”
“I know,” I whisper, leaning into his embrace, finding solace in his vow. “I just wish I could shake this feeling that we’re being watched, hunted.”
“We’ll increase security,” Luk decides, his voice firm. Tomorrow, I’ll talk with the team. We plan to have a stronger detail on you at all times, no matter where you are.”
As we sit there, the fire’s glow illuminating our faces, I want to believe in his words, in the safety and love that surrounds us. If only I could shake this feeling…
The garden is quiet, almost eerily so, as I step outside for a breath of fresh air. Luk’s still asleep; I didn’t want to disturb him with my restless energy. The night envelops me, a blanket of stars overhead offering little in the way of comfort. My phone vibrates suddenly in my hand, a beacon of light in the darkness.
I unlock it, expecting a message from Elena or Lily, scolding me, stating that they spotted me in the garden and to get my butt back inside. What greets me instead is a message that chills me to the bone:
Do you think you could live happily ever after with your little family? Not if I have anything to say about it.
I look around the dark garden, half-expecting someone to emerge from the shadows. But there’s nothing, just the whisper of the wind and the distant sounds of the city.
The garden, once a sanctuary of peace and solitude, suddenly feels like a trap. The darkness around me is oppressive, and the plants are menacing. I clutch my phone, the screen still displaying the chilling message, a direct threat illuminating the night.
I need to tell Luk, to warn him that Sharon’s ghost is not just a shadow from our past but a present danger. My fingers tremble as I draft a quick message, but before I can hit send, the realization hits me like a cold wave: no service. My phone, usually so reliable, is now useless in my hand.
Panic sets in, a heavy, suffocating cloak. The notion that someone could engineer something as mundane yet as critical as cutting off my phone communication terrifies me. It’s then, in the eerie silence of the night, that I feel it again, that prickle at the back of my neck, that undeniable sensation of being watched.
With every fiber of my being telling me to run, to scream, to do anything to escape this nightmare, I instead force myself to stand, refusing to let panic settle in. I begin the painstakingly slow journey back to the safety of the house. Each step feels like a mile, and the night air is thick with my fear.
Then, out of nowhere, a pair of hands, large and unyielding, clamp down on me, a cloth muffling my attempts to scream. Panic—raw and primal—courses through me. I fight, I thrash, but the grip only tightens, dragging me back into the darkness, away from the light of the house, away from Luk, away from safety.
A real-life nightmare is unfolding. The realization that I’m in the hands of an enemy, one who is here not just to threaten but to harm, causes a terror so profound, so all-consuming, that for a moment, the world blanks around me.
As the stranger drags me through the garden, his grip iron-clad and unyielding, I fight against him with everything I have. But it’s like trying to move a mountain with sheer will; he’s too strong, his body a statue of muscle and malice. I can sense his rage, can almost feel the storm within him.
“You took my brother from me, and for that, you’ll suffer. Maybe I’ll toss you off a roof like your husband did to Rory.”
Confusion sets in for a quick moment as I struggle to see my assailant’s eyes. The resemblance is unmistakable. The man detaining me is Connor Murphey, Rory’s younger brother.
“My brother was my hero, and he’s dead because of you,” he continues, his words spoken with a chilling calmness. “So now, it’s Luk’s turn to suffer. He’s going to know exactly what it’s like to lose someone he loves.”
The garden has become a sinister labyrinth, each turn a step further away from hope. As we round the next turn toward the exit, a new wave of panic runs through me—two of Luk’s guards lay motionless on the ground, clearly taken down by Connor’s hand.
He’s getting closer to his goal of killing me, and the reality of the situation settles in with gut-wrenching clarity. Luk doesn’t even know I’m missing yet. How can he save me when he doesn’t know I need saving?
I can’t rely on Luk now; I need to save myself. I twist and turn, trying with all my might to break free from Connor’s iron grip, but my attempts are futile—he’s much too strong, his hold unyielding. A cold dread settles over me as I realize the depth of his anger and his pain, a barely contained rage that promises nothing good.
Do you really think Luk will find you in time?” he hisses in my ear, his words dripping with venom. “Trust me, he won’t.”
The cold night air does nothing to ease the suffocating fear as Connor continues to taunt me, each word a twisted promise of pain and retribution. “I’ve decided I’m not going to drop you off a roof after all; that’s too quick, too easy,” he sneers, a cruel, amused smile forming. “I’m going to make sure you suffer first. And then, I’ll send Luk a little video, a keepsake of sorts, reminding him of how he failed to save his wife and child.”
My heart races, panic clawing at my throat as we reach a nondescript van parked away from the main road. The back doors are flung open, revealing two more armed men and another at the wheel, their faces masks of indifference to my plight.
Connor shoves me inside, the cold metal floor of the van greeting me sharply. He binds me quickly and efficiently as if he’s done this a thousand times before. The doors slam shut with a finality that echoes in the hollow space, sealing my fate.
As the van starts to move, my hope dwindles. I’m at the mercy of a man consumed by vengeance; the horrors that await me are endless. The thought of Luk, of what this will do to him, is the greatest torment of all.