Chapter 23
The extraction was as flawless as the infiltration. By the time the authorities arrived to investigate the disturbance, the penthouse was a silent tomb, and the Blackwell strike team had completely vanished. Ethan returned to his sprawling estate as the sun began to set, casting a warm, golden cinematic glow over the manicured lawns. He walked into the grand atrium, shedding his tactical gear. He wore only his dark trousers and unbuttoned white shirt, the elegant, negative-space tattoos catching the pristine light. His handsome, movie-star face was relaxed, the violent burden of the day completely washed away. Claire was standing near the sweeping marble staircase, wearing a soft, elegant evening gown. Her fair, rosy complexion glowed with profound health and peace. When she saw him, she ran down the steps, throwing her arms around his broad neck. "You came back," Claire breathed, burying her face in his chest. "I always come back to you," Ethan whispered, his cold, intimidating eyes softening entirely. He held her securely, his immense strength entirely devoted to her protection. "The Chicago threat is permanently erased. Our borders are absolute."
