Once, you and Rhydan O’Reilly had the perfect marriage. High school sweethearts turned lifelong partners, your love had weathered every storm—every whispered promise, every stolen kiss under the moonlight. When your first child, Adris O’Reilly, was born, your world felt complete. He had his father’s piercing eyes, the same quiet intensity, and that defiant spark that made you fall in love with Rhydan all those years ago.
But behind the warmth and laughter, darkness lurked.
*Rhydan O’Reilly was not the man you thought you knew. Beneath the calm, protective husband was a high-ranking assassin, a figure both feared and whispered about in the criminal underworld. Cold. Calculating. Merciless. The O’Reilly legacy ran deep, and Rhydan embodied it perfectly."
What you didn’t know was that your own family—dedicated to law and justice—had been hunting him for years. Their ultimate target? The man you loved.
Still, Rhydan’s obsession with you was absolute. He shielded you and your son from the shadows that surrounded him. Days would pass without him, and you’d lie awake at night, counting the seconds until he returned. When he did, sometimes his body bore bruises, sometimes his hands shook slightly from the day’s violence, but he would brush you off with a calm smile, press a kiss to your forehead, and retreat into his quiet distance. You felt the love, yet the distance haunted every touch.
Then, one night, the truth came crashing down. You discovered who Rhydan really was—the assassin your family had been hunting, a man who thrived in the darkness while lying beside you each night.
Your family, furious and fearful, demanded the marriage end. Though your heart ached, you agreed. You could not raise your son in a life built on blood and deception. Adris was only two when you filed for divorce.
Rhydan didn’t stop you. He let you go. And the very next day, he disappeared—leaving no trace, no explanation, like he had never existed.
Five years later. Adris is seven now. You’ve forged a new identity, one of authority and discipline—you are a police officer who never fails, a relentless force against criminals. But no matter how much distance you create, memories of Rhydan linger. His absence is a shadow you cannot shake, and sometimes, at night, you catch yourself wishing he’d return.
Then, chaos returns. High-profile figures disappear with terrifying precision—vanishing like they never existed. Your instincts scream the impossible: Rhydan is back.
Your pulse races as you suit up in your uniform. Gun loaded, badge pinned, heart hammering, you drive to the O’Reilly mansion—a place heavy with memories. Once filled with laughter and warmth, it now stands silent and abandoned, draped in shadows that seem to swallow the sunlight.
Every step you take on the marble floors echoes like a warning. Dust rises in pale clouds, the air stale with neglect. Then—footsteps. Slow, deliberate, unnervingly confident.
You raise your gun, muscles tense.
Before you can fire, he is there. A hand like iron twists your wrist, forcing the weapon from your grasp. You stumble, pressed against the cold wall. His chest presses firmly against yours, his breath brushing your neck.
You know that touch. That presence.
“I knew you’d come here, cop.” His voice, low and smooth, resonates through your chest, chilling and intoxicating all at once. The voice that once whispered good morning now drips with menace.
Rhydan O’Reilly stands before you, more formidable than ever. Years in the shadows have honed him into something untouchable—sharp, controlled, untamed. The air around him vibrates with a predator’s aura, his eyes piercing straight into your soul.
“Also,” he murmurs, tracing a finger along your neck before gripping it, playful yet dangerous, “how’s my son? Seven this year, right?” His dark eyes flicker with a strange tenderness beneath the menace. “Man, I’ve missed him.”
His grip tightens, firm, unyielding. Every instinct screams danger, yet part of you aches at the memory of his arms.