Ten Years of Loyalty, a Lifetime of Wounds

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My private-security boyfriend, Shane, vanished without a trace for seven long days and nights-all to guard a superstar at an exclusive international love hotel in Malibu.

Not a single call, not a text, just silence that gnawed at my bones until I feared the worst.

On the eighth day, he stumbled through our door, his body littered with ugly, bruising love bites, his eyes bloodshot and wild as if he hadn't slept in a week.

Without a word, he dropped to his knees, his service weapon pressed tight to his temple.

"Kate, they spiked my drink. I broke our promises. I deserve to die!"

He pulled the trigger without a moment's hesitation.

The gunshot rang out, deafening in our quiet apartment, and the bullet tore through his ear-leaving a ragged, bleeding wound and a permanent scar, a reminder of the night he'd lost himself.

Hearing damage, the doctors later said, irreversible.

I stared at him, at the raw, unfiltered despair in his eyes, the self-hatred that seemed to gnaw at his very bones, and my heart shattered into a million pieces.

For all the pain he'd caused, for the promises broken, I couldn't bear to lose him.

I fell to my knees beside him, pulled him into my arms, and forgave him.

Nine months slipped by in a fragile peace, and our wedding went off without a single hitch-until the tabloids exploded with news: Luna Rossi, the superstar he'd guarded that fateful week, was heavily pregnant, her belly swollen beyond concealment.

The revelation sent her spiraling into a deep depression, and soon, she was perched on the rooftop of a nineteen-story building, one foot over the edge, threatening to end her life-and the life of her unborn child.

Once again, Shane knelt before me, his service weapon pressed to his temple, the same desperation in his eyes as that terrible eighth day.

"Kate, just this one last time. Let me save her."

"I swear, this ends it. Clean break. No more lies, no more choices. Just us, after this."

Ten years we'd been together-ten years of loyalty, of scars, of promises.

He thought I'd cave again, thought my love would blind me to the pattern, to the way he always put her before us.

My voice was eerily, terrifyingly calm, no tremor, no anger, just a cold emptiness that even I barely recognized.

"Her or me?"

"Choose her, and we're through. For good."

"Kate, I know this is my fault, but I'm responsible for Luna Rossi's unborn child."

"I can't abandon her now..."

Shane remained on his knees.

I stood frozen, my heart having already turned to ice, the warmth of our years together snuffed out in that single moment of betrayal.

Then, voices cut in-Shane's teammates, lingering on the sidelines, muttering their judgments like vultures circling a corpse.

"Kate, you wouldn't actually make Shane shoot himself, would you?"

"He almost died saving you back in the day! Took a bullet for you! He's been loyal all these years-isn't that enough?"

"Luna's so gentle, so fragile, never makes demands. Why can't you be more like her?"

My ears buzzed, the room spinning as all I could process was those words: like her.

A hard lump formed in my throat, sharp and painful, and my heart contorted so violently I thought I might double over.

Like her?

Like the woman who'd destroyed our trust, who'd left her marks on him, who now had him kneeling before me, gun to his head, choosing her all over again?

I looked down at Shane, and my mind drifted back ten years-to the night my parents were killed, the night the world burned down around me.

Shane, fresh off his first major operation, his body still sore from his own wounds, had held me tight, shielding me from the flames, repeating over and over, his voice rough with emotion:

"Kate, don't be scared!"

"I'll protect you with my life! Always."

That night, flames had seared his left shoulder into a twisted, permanent scar-a badge of the vow he'd made to shield me forever.

He never once complained, never once mentioned the pain.

Now, I saw those flames again, flickering in his eyes-but the man who'd vowed to always stand between me and harm was gone.

In his place was a stranger, one who chose a superstar's fragile ego over the woman who'd loved him through every scar, every nightmare, every broken promise.

"Kate, let me go!"

he begged, his voice cracking, "I'll trade you this-for your understanding."

He fumbled in his pocket and produced a red string bracelet, intertwined with tiny golden symbols-our bracelet, the one I'd tied around his wrist three years ago, after he nearly died on an overseas mission.

Tears finally fell, hot and fast, burning my cheeks as I stared at that bracelet.

The one I'd sanctified with my own blood, crawling up the steps of St.

Patrick's Cathedral on bleeding knees, praying for his safe return.

The one I'd joked about, lighthearted but earnest, when I'd slipped it onto his wrist:

If you ever truly screw up, trade this for one forgiveness.

I never dreamed he'd use it for her.

"Shane... you'd trade this for Luna Rossi?"

I whispered, my voice trembling so badly the words barely came out.

I snatched the bracelet from his hand, my fingers shaking, then wrenched the gun from his grip in one swift, furious motion.

I pressed it hard against his temple, the metal cold against his skin, and stared into his eyes.

"Are you absolutely sure?"

My heart clenched like a fist, every fiber of my being screaming at him to choose me, to remember our years together, to remember the scar on his shoulder and the blood I'd spilled for him.

But before he could answer, one of his teammates shouted, panic lacing his voice:

"Boss! Luna's hemorrhaging badly! We don't have much time!"

Shane shot to his feet, impatience flashing across his face, as if my pain, our bracelet, our ten years together were nothing but a nuisance.

"Kate, it's just a damn bracelet! Do you have to be so difficult?"

"Fine. Have it your way!"

A bitter smirk twisted his lips, cruel and unrecognizable.

He grabbed the gun from me, aimed it at his own right bicep, and fired.

BANG!

The bullet tore through his flesh, blood streaming down his wrist in a crimson river, staining the white calla lilies that adorned our wedding altar-lilies that had symbolized our forever, now ruined by his betrayal.

He winced, but his eyes never left the door, never looked at me, never showed a hint of regret.

"Bullet's out. Happy now, Kate?"

he snapped, wiping blood from his arm with a dismissive hand.

"Good. Wait for me. We'll finish the ceremony when I get back."

There was cold detachment in his eyes, no love, no remorse-just a man in a hurry to get back to the woman who'd broken us.

He tossed the gun aside, leaving me alone with the scent of blood and lilies.

His teammates following him without a second glance, as if I were nothing but a ghost.

I stood completely alone, the silence deafening, before pulling out my phone and dialing a number I'd hoped never to call.

"Dr. Evans, it's Kate. Please schedule the procedure for me, please. As soon as possible."

I ended the call, my hands still shaking, and stood completely still for a long, terrible moment.

Then my legs gave way, and I crashed to my knees on the raised wedding platform.

Shards from a broken champagne flute sliced into my palm, white-hot pain shooting up my arm, but I barely felt it.

My determination was steel.

The man I'd loved for a decade was rotten, through and through, and I was finished.

Finished loving him, finished forgiving him, finished waiting for him to choose me.

I hailed a taxi to the hospital.

In the ER waiting area, I pulled out my phone and permanently deleted all the prenatal records from my appointment three days prior-the proof that I, too, was carrying his child, the child he'd never know, the child I'd soon lose.

As I approached the front desk to check in, a rough hand clamped around my wrist, yanking me backward.

It was one of Shane's teammates, a sneer twisting his face, mocking and cruel.

"Boss! Look-it's Kate!"

Shane stormed over, his arms hugging the deathly pale Luna.

"Kate, I told you I'd come back after making sure Luna was stable! Why did you have to follow me here? Can't you give me even that little bit of trust?"

His voice was pure accusation, as if I were the one who'd broken promises, who'd chosen someone else over us.

"Boss, Kate's being completely ridiculous!" another teammate chimed in, rolling his eyes.

"Luna's in active labor! Kate isn't even showing-what's her emergency? She's doing this intentionally. Trying to upset Luna!"

With every word from his teammates, Shane's expression grew colder and harder, his gaze cutting into me like a knife.

"Kate, you've disappointed me," he said, his voice low and dangerous.

"You know Luna struggles with depression! And she's carrying a child! Is this really the time for your theatrics?"

Theatrics.

The word stabbed my heart like a blade, twisting deep.

Ten years ago, perhaps I had been prone to drama-young, grief-stricken, clinging to the only person who'd ever made me feel safe.

But in the decade since?

I had swallowed every insult, endured every humiliation from his circle, cleaned his wounds after missions, held him through nightmares, put his needs before my own time and time again.

My entire existence narrowing to orbit around Shane.

What right did he have to call me selfish?

To dismiss my pain as theatrics?

Trembling with rage, I forced the words through my teeth, "Shane, I'm here for an abor-"

Luna chose that moment to let out a dramatic, high-pitched moan in his arms, her body thrashing weakly, her sobs hysterical.

"Shane! Let me go! Just let me die! You think I'm just a burden anyway! If I die, if the baby dies-you'll finally be free!"

She went limp, her eyes fluttering shut as she convincingly feigned losing consciousness.

"Move!"

Shane roared, shoving me aside so hard I stumbled into the wall, my head cracking against the cold tile.

"Kate, you're sickening!"

He cradled Luna protectively in his arms, his steps frantic as he sprinted toward the operating rooms, never once looking back to see if I was okay.

My back slammed into the cold hospital wall, and a fresh, tearing agony exploded deep in my abdomen-a sharp, brutal pain that stole my breath.

A warm trickle of blood ran down my inner thighs, but I barely registered the physical sensation.

My mind had drifted back to my 18th birthday, to the day Shane vanished for three months on a deep-cover assignment, only to return with his throat slashed, his voice permanently damaged, rough and raspy.

That night, he'd rasped out "Happy Birthday," each note strained and painfully off-key, but it had settled in my heart like warm, golden sand-the sweetest gift I'd ever received.

Every birthday wish I'd made since had been solely for his safety, for his return, for us.

How pitifully naive that seemed now.

Hands shaking, I hauled myself upright, ignoring the pain in my abdomen and the blood on my legs.

I pulled out my phone and posted a task on a rival security contractors' network-a task with a simple, deadly instruction: Find me. Protect me. And when the time comes, help me make them pay.

Minutes later, it was accepted.

I slumped against the wall, the last of my strength draining away, as I waited for the storm to break.

Then, a stinging slap cracked across my face, hard enough to make my head spin.

It was Shane, his eyes wild with rage, his face contorted in a snarl.

"Kate! Luna's baby is deformed! Did you do this?! What did you do to her?!"

"Boss, Kate has completely lost it!" his teammates shouted, their voices venomous.

"Luna carried that child for nine months-and it's deformed! I knew Kate's jealousy would drive her to this. This is her twisted payback! She's pure evil!"

Before I could even form a response, Shane's hand clamped around my arm like a vice, his grip so tight it felt like he might snap the bone.

"Kate! You will apologize to Luna! Right now!" he roared, his voice shaking with fury.

"This is despicable! How could you do this to her? To an innocent child?!"

His grip tightened until spots danced in my vision, and I struggled against him, my head cracking against the wall again.

Warm blood trickled down my neck, and I wiped it away mechanically, my eyes never leaving his.

For a split second, Shane went pale, a flicker of panic in his eyes-as if he'd just realized how hard he was hurting me.

His lips parted, as if he were about to say something, to apologize-but then a nurse came running, her voice frantic:

"Emergency! Luna has a scalpel! She's trying to cut the baby out!"

The momentary concern in Shane's eyes vanished, replaced by icy, unbridled rage.

He began dragging me toward the operating room, his grip never loosening.

Inside the hospital room, Luna was sobbing hysterically, the scalpel trembling against her distended abdomen, her face twisted in a mix of grief and madness.

"Shane," she wailed, her voice shrill, "I'm an orphan. All I wanted was my own child... What did I do wrong? Love you? I'll cut this... this thing out myself!"

She pressed the blade down, and a thin line of blood appeared on her belly, bright red against her pale skin.

Shane's eyes turned crimson, raw agony contorting his features-the same agony I'd seen the night he came home covered in love bites.

"Luna, put the scalpel down..." he begged, his voice cracking with a tenderness I hadn't heard directed at me in years.

"Please... If we lose this baby... we'll have another..."

Another child.

The words were a physical blow, knocking the wind out of me.

Ten years ago, after I was orphaned, Shane promised he would be my only family, that we'd build a life together, fill it with love and children.

Three years ago, he was the one who vowed we'd have kids, who talked about naming them after my parents, who kissed my forehead and said he couldn't wait to be a father to our babies.

Now?

Only the bitter taste of irony remained.

"Shane!"

Luna shrieked, suddenly pressing the blade to her own throat, her eyes wild with madness and jealousy.

"Make Kate pay! Make her cut herself too! If my belly's ripped open... hers should be, too!"

Shane lunged forwards, his voice desperate.

"Luna! DON'T!"

"I'll do it!" he yelled, his voice cutting through the chaos, loud and clear.

"I'll make her pay. Just put the scalpel down."

A deafening silence fell over the hospital room.

I stared at him, unable to process what I was hearing, unable to breathe.

The man who'd shielded me from every harm for a decade?

He'd just agreed to have me mutilated-to hurt me-for her.

"Shane, I can't... I'm pregn-" I whispered, the words catching in my throat, begging him to hear me, to understand, to stop.

But Luna's blood-curdling scream drowned out my voice.

"AHHH! My belly! It hurts! It's killing me!"

Shane shoved me aside so hard I stumbled and fell to the floor, my abdomen screaming in pain.

He scooped Luna up in his arms, his voice gentle as he shouted orders.

"Go! To the Corps medical wing! Prep for surgery NOW! Move!"

The Mercenary Corps Medical Wing was cold, sterile, and terrifying-a far cry from the warm hospital I'd been in moments before.

I was strapped to a cold operating table, my arms and legs bound tight, a filthy rag stuffed into my mouth to muffle my screams.

I fought against the restraints with every shred of my strength, but it was useless.

"Shut her up!" one of the medics snapped, glaring at me.

"Luna's next door! Don't you dare disturb her!"

I heard Shane's voice, tender and low, the same voice he'd used to comfort me after my parents died:

"Luna, don't be scared... I'm right here... It's going to be okay."

Those words were shards of glass, slicing through what little hope I had left.

Tears streamed down my face, hot and endless, as I realized that the man I loved was truly gone.

Then, a medic burst into the room, frantic, his voice shaking.

"Boss! HQ's under heavy assault! All surgical teams are deployed! There's only one anesthesiologist left. Who gets it for the C-sections?"

"Give it to Luna!"

Shane snapped without a moment's hesitation, his voice cold and final.

"She needs it more. Kate can handle it."

My world went white with the finality of it-the confirmation that he cared nothing for my pain, nothing for my life.

"Proceed!"

Shane ordered the medics, his voice coming from just outside the door.

"As for Kate... she needs to learn there are consequences for her selfishness."

My clothes were cut away, the cold air stinging my skin, and the sharp, bitter smell of antiseptic washed over me.

Then, the scalpel bit deep into my flesh-a blinding, searing pain that stole my breath, that made me scream into the gag, my body convulsing against the restraints.

"AAAAAGH!"

The pain was absolute, unbearable, worse than anything I'd ever felt.

My fingernails scraped bloody furrows into the cold metal table, leaving deep marks.

Time lost all meaning-I passed out from the agony, woke to more of it, and passed out again, over and over, until I was delirious with pain and grief.

From the other side of the partition, Luna's soft whimpers floated over, delicate and fake.

"Shane... it hurts so much... Get me out of here..."

Shane murmured comfort, his voice gentle, and I heard him lift her gently, carry her out of the room without a single backward glance-without ever checking on me, without ever asking if I was alive.

I lay drenched in cold sweat on the steel table, utterly broken, my body screaming with pain, my heart nothing but a hollow shell.

I lifted a trembling hand, trying to touch my abdomen, but it fell back to the table, useless, weak.

One of the medics assisting finally gasped, his voice filled with horror.

"My God! She was pregnant too!"

"This fetus... it's fully formed!" another whispered, staring at the tiny, silent form on the table beside me.

Shane's other teammates, still in the room, froze, panic flashing across their faces.

"Quick! Boss can't find out about this!" one hissed, his voice shaking.

"Sew her up! Now! Dispose of it!"

They hastily wrapped the tiny, silent form in a crumpled towel and tossed it into the medical waste bin, as if it were nothing more than trash.

I caught a single, horrifying glimpse-a tiny hand, a tuft of dark hair, the same color as Shane's.

The metallic taste of blood filled my mouth, and then darkness swallowed me whole.

I woke up hours later, still strapped to the same table, the pain dulled but still throbbing, my body weak and cold.

I struggled against the restraints one last time, and to my surprise, they loosened-left untied in their panic.

I stumbled to my feet, barefoot, my legs shaking.

I found my shredded clothes and fumbled for my phone with numb fingers.

Voices erupted from the hallway outside, loud and panicked, cutting through the silence.

"Kate was pregnant too?! How is that possible?!"

"Impossible! Boss would have known! He would have never let us-"

"Shane must NEVER know about this! If he finds out we killed his baby... he'll kill us all!"

Then, Luna's shrill, venomous voice pierced through the door, cold and cruel, filled with triumph.

"It doesn't matter if he finds out. She'll be dead soon enough. Burn it all! Burn the room, burn the evidence-we'll say it was a rival faction's attack! That Kate died in the crossfire! Or Shane will kill us all!"

The distinct click of a lighter.

Then, the acrid smell of gasoline hit my nostrils, thick and choking.

Flames roared to life under the door, hungry and immediate.

Cough! Cough!

Thick, black smoke filled the air, choking me, making my eyes burn.

I pounded on the door, my fists slamming against the metal, which was already blisteringly hot.

"Just die quietly, Kate!"

Luna hissed through the gap, her voice filled with malice.

"Shane is MINE! Always has been, always will be! You never stood a chance!"

I stumbled backward, falling to the floor, as flames began to engulf the room, licking at the walls, the table, the medical waste bin.

Thick, black smoke choked me, and my consciousness started to fade-until I heard a crash.

CRASH!

The window behind me shattered, glass flying everywhere, and a figure clad in black tactical gear stepped through the smoke and falling glass, his face hidden by a mask.

He touched the comms unit at his ear, his voice calm and steady over the roar of the flames.

"Target acquired, Commander... we are leaving now."

One week later.

Shane returned from the front lines, exhausted and battered, his body covered in new scars, after securing the HQ perimeter from the rival faction's attack.

He collapsed into a chair, reached for his phone, and dialed Luna's number-only to get no answer.

One of his teammates, stumbled into the room, his face pale, his body shaking.

"Boss! Kate... she's back for revenge! She survived the fire-she knows everything... she knows we operated without anesthesia... she knows about the baby..."

Without anesthesia.

The baby.

Shane froze solid, his phone slipping from his hand and clattering to the floor.

He slowly raised his gun, pressing the muzzle to the man's temple, his eyes wild with rage and horror.

"I said FAKE it! Stage it for Luna's benefit! Make her think Kate was being punished!" he roared, his voice shaking violently.

"You actually HURT her? You killed my baby? WHO GAVE YOU THE RIGHT?!"

His hand was shaking so badly he could barely hold the gun.

He lowered it, his breath ragged, and frantically dialed my number-over and over, but it went straight to voicemail, my voice cold and empty on the other end.

Another man rushed in, his hands trembling as he clutched two small, ornately carved wooden urns-too small, too delicate for what they held.

He dropped to his knees, his face buried in his hands.

"Boss... a courier just delivered these... He said it contains Kate's ashes... and your baby..."

Shane stared at the urns, his face pale as a ghost, his body going limp.

The gun slipped from his hand, and he fell to his knees, reaching for the urns as if they were the only thing left in the world.

For the first time in ten years, I could almost hear him cry-quiet, broken sobs that echoed through the empty room, as the weight of his betrayal, his loss, finally crushed him.