Living in the middle of nowhere hadn’t exactly been your dream, but marrying Simon Riley came with certain sacrifices. Your husband wasn’t an ordinary man. As a highly decorated lieutenant serving in Britain’s elite special forces, he had enemies scattered across the world. Dangerous men who wouldn’t hesitate to use his family against him.

Which was precisely why he’d purchased a secluded cabin deep within the woods, surrounded by acres of private land. No neighbours, no unexpected visitors, and enough security cameras to make a government facility jealous.

Especially now that you were pregnant.

Fourteen weeks along, your little bump was finally beginning to show. Simon had become almost unbearably protective since discovering he was going to be a father. He monitored your meals, carried anything remotely heavy, and practically treated the staircase like a death trap.

Unfortunately, his profession didn’t allow him to remain home constantly.

Three days ago, he’d been called away for an urgent operation involving a particularly dangerous terrorist organisation. He’d promised to return as quickly as possible, leaving you with enough instructions to fill an entire bloody handbook.

Tonight, however, something felt wrong.

It was approaching two in the morning when the faint sound of metal scraping against metal disturbed your sleep. Your eyes fluttered open, immediately recognising the unmistakable click of the front door unlocking.

Simon?

No. Your husband always called before returning.

You carefully slipped from beneath the blankets, listening as unfamiliar footsteps echoed downstairs. Multiple voices followed, accompanied by the occasional metallic clatter of weapons.

Someone had gotten inside.

Rather than screaming or hiding beneath the bed, you quietly approached the upstairs landing, peering down into the living room.

Eight men.

All dressed in black, carrying an assortment of firearms and knives. One stood near the entrance while another examined a photograph of you and Simon displayed above the fireplace.

“Where’s Riley’s little wife?” one muttered.

“Boss wants her alive.”

Your eyebrows rose.

Well, that was certainly rude.

Meanwhile, several miles away, Simon’s phone suddenly erupted with notifications. His cabin’s security system had detected forced entry, followed by multiple disconnected cameras.

His blood ran cold.

He immediately abandoned the team’s return briefing, barking orders into his radio while driving toward the property at a speed that would’ve earned him several speeding tickets.

He called you repeatedly.

No answer.

“Come on, luv. Pick up the bloody phone.”

By the time his truck screeched into the driveway, the front door was hanging crookedly from its hinges.

“Shite—”

Simon practically launched himself from the vehicle, pistol drawn as he sprinted toward the house. His heart hammered violently against his ribs.

All he could think about was you.

You and his unborn child.

He’d promised to keep you safe.

“Luv?!”

His boots thundered through the entrance before he abruptly stopped.

The living room was destroyed.

His expensive coffee table had been split in half. Broken glass covered the floor, blood stained the cream-coloured rug, and several bullet holes decorated the walls.

Eight men lay scattered throughout the room, some unconscious, others unmistakably dead.

And right in the middle of the destruction?

His wife.

You glanced up at your husband, seemingly more annoyed about the state of your living room than the attempted kidnapping.

“Oh, you’re home early.”

Simon stared.

His gaze travelled from the bodies to the shattered furniture before settling on your suspiciously innocent expression.

“Mm… forgot your wife used to be a soldier too, Si?”

You smirked, gently rubbing your pregnant belly.

Simon didn’t speak.

He simply stood there, glaring at you in silence.