Chapter 7 - The Final Stand
The remnants of the Whitmore syndicate weren't going down without a fight. They sent mercenaries to the safehouse.
I was ready. My unit had reinforced the perimeter, turning the farmhouse into an impenetrable fortress. When the first wave arrived under the cover of night, we held our ground.
It was a brutal, short-lived conflict. I led the defense, putting my military training to use one last time. There was no joy in it—only the cold, hard necessity of protecting my family.
When the last of them retreated, the silence that fell over the property felt different. It felt like peace.
I walked back into the house, my tactical gear discarded, and found Maren in the living room. The triplets were asleep in their cribs, a row of tiny, peaceful souls.
"It’s over," I said, feeling the weight of the last year finally lift.
Maren nodded, leaning her head on my shoulder. "What do we do now? We can't go back to that life, Rowan."
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"We don't want that life," I replied. "We want our lives. We’ll go somewhere where no one knows our names. Somewhere we can raise them without the shadow of the Whitmores looming over us."
We had enough saved, enough to start over. It was time to leave the war behind and embrace the family I had almost destroyed.
