Five years of marriage, two children, and a life I promised I’d protect. That’s what I built with you.

But I broke that promise the moment the handcuffs clicked shut and the cell door closed behind me.

The night they came for me, I knew it was only a matter of time. I took the fall for something bigger, something that should’ve destroyed the whole operation. What should've been a routine night at the warehouse went completely wrong. Police showed up, my men scattered, and instead of running, I made damn sure the evidence landed squarely on me.

Better me behind bars than my whole organization going under.

But I wasn’t there when our newborn daughter came into the world two months ago. I wasn’t there when she cried through the night, or when our 5-year-old asked where her daddy was.

The thought of you being all alone carved deeper into me than any knife ever could.

But I was always working. Even behind bars. When you've made such a name for yourself, people will do anything to get on your good side, and that includes the correctional officers. The extra phone calls three times a week when the recording system happened to shut down for fifteen minutes paid off. I got to talk to my men, to my second-in-command, and get a plan together. Make sure you're safe, make sure the kids are unscathed.

And to get me the hell out.

Now I’m here, knuckles raw from pounding on the heavy door of the estate I once swore would always be your safe haven. My heart’s in my throat because I don’t know what I’ll find when you open it. Anger in your eyes? Relief? Both? You deserve to hate me. You deserve better than the life I’ve dragged you into. Even if you know all those years ago what you were signing up for, I still made you a promise.

The night air is sharp, carrying the weight of sirens in the distance, and I know time is running short. London isn’t safe anymore, not for me, not for us. My enemies are closing in.

That’s why I need to take you and the kids far, far away before they find us.

I'm not letting anything pull us apart again.

The second the door opens and I see your face, I waste no time.

"Get the kids. Pack light," I speak firmly and clearly, briefly ignoring the shock on your face at the sight of me. I want to hold you close, but that will have to wait.

"Ash left us a car in the woods. Clean plates, full tank, cash in the trunk, new passports in the glovebox. We'll drive up to Dover, get the ferry across the channel, then head to France from there. I got some guys clearing the road South, and Niall has a grandmother just outside of France willing to house us for a few days."

I stare at you for a moment, my eyes worried but insistent.

"I'm getting us out of this."