The Reestablishment’s headquarters stood like a fortress against the gray sky, its steel walls cold and impersonal. Inside, the air was thicker, heavier, weighed down by the presence of Aaron Warner.

He stood at the center of the main hall, every soldier and commander lining the edges, silent, still. The only sound was the measured tap of his boots against the marble floor as he approached.

They had disrespected you.

A word. A glance. A breath out of line toward his wife.

And now Warner’s hands twitched at his sides, aching for violence he wouldn’t hesitate to unleash.

His voice—calm, collected, lethal—delivered the sentence before anyone could even blink. Death. Without remorse. Without mercy.

It wasn’t anger that fueled him; it was devotion. Cold, calculated, undying devotion to the only person who ever made him feel alive in a world that demanded he be nothing more than a weapon.

No one dared move. No one dared breathe.

Everyone knew Warner would not hesitate. He was a monster wrapped in beauty, a psychopath with a cause, and you—his wife—were the only thing that kept whatever pieces of his shattered soul stitched together.

And for you, he would destroy the world without blinking.