Scarlett returns from the dead—not as the woman her family framed and imprisoned, but as a legendary military commander feared across the world. When the ex-husband who stole her child demands a divorce, he has no idea he’s awakened the vengeance of the woman he destroyed. But one question still haunts her: did her baby really die?
A baby’s cry cut through the sterile room. Just once. Thin. Fragile. Then silence. Fear surged through Scarlett as she strained against the chains binding her wrists and ankles to the hospital bed. “Where’s my baby?” she asked, her voice barely steady. The nurse hesitated. Then, quietly, “We’re sorry. He didn’t make it.” …. “Commander?”…
Because fate had other plans. A classified military recruitment program identified Scarlett’s combat aptitude during her incarceration. She was transferred under sealed orders. What followed was years of war zones, black-ops missions, and survival in places designed to break people. Instead, she rose. She became one of the most decorated commanders in modern military history.…
What was Scarlett planning? But the feeling vanished as quickly as it came. She scoffed, her gaze full of disdain. “As if you could do anything,” she said with a laugh. “Go ahead. Try.” Her tone sharpened, turning vicious. “Let me make one thing clear-no matter what you do, you’ll always be nothing more than…
Not after that. Scarlett turned and walked toward the car parked by the road. Without looking back, she lifted a hand in a lazy wave. “See you at the wedding in three days.” She didn’t have time to waste here. There were people she needed to see- Her adoptive parents. Her brother. Five years. It…
The warmth of her touch- It steadied him almost instantly. Without thinking, he leaned into her, clinging to that rare sense of safety. Scarlett rose slowly, her expression turning ice-cold as she faced the group closing in. “Get over here!” the scar-faced man barked at the boy. Terrified, the child instinctively wrapped his arms around…
Heavy. Suffocating. Someone swallowed hard. “Monster… run! RUN!” Panic broke out instantly. They scattered in every direction. Scarlett’s gaze darkened. The boy’s injuries flashed through her mind. And then- Her own child. If he had lived… He’d be about this age. Her eyes narrowed. Run? Not happening. She crouched, scooped up a handful of small…
No. It wasn’t her. Scarlett looked down at the boy, his face streaked with tears. She frowned slightly and wiped them away. “Hey. Easy,” she said, her voice gentler now. “You don’t have to cry like that. If you’re hurt, deal with it-but don’t fall apart over it.” “O-Okay…” the boy sniffed, trying hard to…
So why her? It wasn’t just her looks. That wasn’t enough to catch his attention. There had to be more to it. Theron lowered his gaze to the boy in his arms. Theo’s skin burned with fever. His breathing came shallow and uneven, each breath weaker than the last. This wasn’t new. Four years ago,…
His legs were ruined. Twisted at unnatural angles, the damage severe enough that it was obvious-this hadn’t been treated properly. Maybe it couldn’t be. Either way, it was permanent. Hard to even look at. “Who did this?” she asked. Her voice was quiet. Too quiet. Louie pulled the blanket back over his legs. “Drop it.…
“Where is he?” “At a club.” Scarlett got there fast. Too fast. Inside the private room, Colin Drake was exactly where you’d expect him to be-sprawled across a couch, surrounded by women. One draped over his left arm. Another leaning into his shoulder. He laughed, careless, indulgent. “Oh, you’re awful,” one of them teased, pressing…