Chapter 13 They are here for me.
Landon stared at her. He wanted to say something—an apology, an explanation, a promise. But none of it felt good enough.
Evelyn turned around and walked away.
A second later, a door slammed shut somewhere deeper inside the house.
Landon remained where he was.
Everything she said replayed in his mind.
Evelyn wasn’t an ordinary woman. She was the daughter of General Alderic Virelle, one of the most powerful military figures in the country. Her family had influence, wealth, and a reputation few dared challenge.
When they first got together, nobody approved.
The Virelle family looked down on him. They called him a bastard from the Hayes family. A man carrying a disgraced name. Someone unworthy of standing beside Evelyn.
At the time, Landon had nothing—no fame, no power, no achievements. Just a military uniform and a dream.
Yet Evelyn chose him anyway.
She stood against her family. She defended him when everyone else mocked him. She loved him when nobody else believed in him.
And now that same woman had finally given up on him.
Landon let out a slow breath.
Maybe he was the one who ruined everything from the beginning.
Maybe all he could do now was give her the peace she wanted.
Maybe one day she would forgive him.
Or maybe she never would.
He turned around and left the house.
Outside, Carter leaned against the SUV with his arms folded. The moment he saw Nathaniel, he sighed.
“That bad, huh?”
Landon gave a helpless smile. “Worse.”
“I figured.”
Carter pushed himself off the vehicle. “I was honestly debating whether I’d have to go inside and pull you out or carry your body back after she finished with you.”
Landon let out a short laugh. “Thanks for the confidence.”
“Anytime.”
They stood in silence for a moment.
Then Carter snapped his fingers.
“Right. Almost forgot. Your father’s secretary called.”
Landon frowned. “What for?”
Carter stared at him. “Seriously?”
Landon blinked—then realization hit him.
“Damn.”
Carter burst out laughing. “You forgot, didn’t you?”
Landon rubbed his forehead. “I completely forgot.”
“Today’s Lord Aldric’s birthday dinner.”
Landon groaned. With everything happening lately, the date had slipped his mind completely.
Carter shook his head. “If I were your father, I’d disown you.”
“Good thing you’re not my father.”
“Fair point.”
Carter opened the passenger door. “So what are we getting him? Expensive whiskey? A gold watch? One of those ridiculous collector items rich people waste money on?”
Landon shook his head. “No. I’ll buy it myself.”
“You already know what he wants?”
A small smile formed on Landon’s face. “Yeah. The old man has terrible taste, but after all these years, I know exactly what he’ll like.”
They got into the SUV.
The drive was quiet. Neither of them felt like talking.
About thirty minutes later, Carter pulled over near a luxury shopping district.
Landon unfastened his seatbelt and opened the door.
“Wait here,” he said. “I won’t be long.”
He nodded, and I walked into the store alone.
The place was quiet, dimly lit, and lined with shelves that held vintage wristwatches behind clean glass displays. Everything about it felt controlled and expensive, like a place that didn’t tolerate noise or mistakes. Landon Hayes slowed his steps as his eyes moved across the collection, scanning carefully until something familiar caught his attention.
An antique mechanical wristwatch sat under a soft spotlight, its hands ticking with quiet precision. It looked like something from another time, something his father used to wear before life turned him into a man who trusted silence more than words. Landon picked it up without hesitation, already knowing it was the right choice.
“He’ll like this,” he muttered to himself.
He was about to head to the counter when something else pulled his attention.
A small pink ballerina music box sat on a lower shelf, delicate and carefully carved, the kind of gift that didn’t belong in a store like this unless someone meant it to be found. Landon paused for a moment longer than he expected to.
Ava would have loved it.
He didn’t think twice after that. He carried both items to the counter and placed them down. The clerk smiled politely and began processing the purchase while Landon stood there waiting, his thoughts already drifting elsewhere.
The soft chime of the door interrupted the calm.
Three men walked in.
Nothing about them was loud or obvious, but Landon noticed them immediately anyway. It wasn’t what they wore, it was how they moved. Too coordinated. Too deliberate. One of them kept his hand slightly too close to the inside of his coat, as if he had practiced that motion more than once.
Carter’s voice echoed in Landon’s mind from earlier warnings, but Landon didn’t react yet. He simply stayed still, watching through the reflection on the glass.
The tension didn’t rise suddenly. It settled slowly, like a weight pressing into the room.
When the clerk called out the total, Landon reached for his card.
That was when he heard it.
A sharp metallic click from behind him.
A gun being cocked.
Time didn’t slow. It sharpened.
Landon moved instantly, dropping his body forward as the shot cracked through the air. The bullet tore past where his head had been a second earlier. In the same motion, he twisted his body, drove forward, and slammed his fist into the shooter’s face before the man could recover.
The impact sent the attacker crashing into a shelf of perfume bottles. Glass exploded across the floor. Customers screamed and scrambled for cover, knocking over displays in panic.
Landon didn’t wait.
He grabbed the man by his collar and yanked him up, forcing him close enough that there was no room for lies.
“Who sent you?” Landon asked, voice low and steady.
The man groaned, barely conscious, blood running from his nose.
Landon tightened his grip.
“Talk,” he said again, sharper now, “or I swear you’re-''
But Landon Hayes didn’t get to finish his thought.
Another man stepped out from behind the aisle with a gun already raised, and this time there was no hesitation, no warning, just immediate intent to kill. Landon dropped his body low and rolled across the polished floor as the first burst of bullets ripped through the wooden display behind him. Glass shattered, wood splintered, and expensive watches scattered across the tiles like broken time itself.
He slid behind a counter and exhaled sharply, keeping the ballerina music box tucked firmly against his chest even as chaos exploded around him.
Another shot slammed into the counter, inches from Landon’s head. He shifted position without wasting movement, staying low, eyes tracking every reflection he could catch from the glass surfaces around him.
The attackers were not panicking. They were coordinating.
That told him everything he needed to know.
They weren’t here by coincidence.
They came for him.
