CHAPTER 17: THE FACE

POV: ANASTASIA

I could still see his face.

Even with my eyes closed, it burned behind my eyelids. The man who had forced his way into my room, who had tried to drag me into the shadows while gunfire shook the compound, who had spoken my name like he had known it his whole life.

I wrapped my arms around myself as Jaxon stood in front of me, his tall frame blocking out the cold gloom of the service passage.

“Who was he?” Jaxon asked. His voice was controlled, but I could see the tension in his jaw. I looked at him.

“I’ve seen him before.”

“Where?”

“Here. In the compound.”

Jaxon went completely still.I forced myself to think. The man’s face had been partly covered when he entered my room, but when I fought him, the fabric had slipped. I saw him clearly.

Dark hair. A narrow scar near his eyebrow. The same watch he worn the day I arrived at the compound.

“I don’t know his name.”

“Describe him.”

I gave him every detail I could remember. Jaxon listened without interrupting, his eyes dark and fixed on mine.

“He was outside the dining room two days ago,” I added as the memory clicked into place. “He was carrying crates. He stopped to speak to one of the guards.”

Jaxon turned toward the tunnel entrance. “Rafe!”

His voice echoed off the damp concrete walls. A few seconds later, Rafe appeared, his gun held low, sweat and grime covering his face. “What?”

Jaxon laid out the description in sharp, precise words. Rafe’s expression shifted instantly from high alert to grim recognition.

“I know who that is,” Rafe said softly.

My stomach dropped into a bottomless pit. “Who?”

“Connor Hale.”

Jaxon stared at him, the silence between them heavy enough to crush. “Where is he?”

Rafe pulled out his phone, his thumb flying across the screen as he checked their internal tracking. He looked up, his jaw tight. “He’s not answering his radio.”

“Where was he stationed during the breach?”

“West gate.” Rafe checked the security logs. “He cleared his post right as the east gate went down.”

The silence returned, colder this time. Jaxon understood the full picture before I did.

“Find him,” Jaxon ordered.

Rafe nodded once and backed out into the passage.

I looked down at my hands, watching my knuckles tremble. “This is because of me.”

Jaxon turned back to me immediately. “No.”

“If they weren’t looking for me, none of this would have happened!” My voice cracked, tears burning the back of my throat. “I came here and brought a war to your doorstep. The shooting, the breach, someone inside your own club turning on you, your men are taking bullets because I’m standing in this compound!”

Jaxon stepped closer, his shadow falling over me. “You didn’t ask for any of this, Anastasia.”

“But…”

“You didn’t choose to be born into whatever secrets Clara was keeping,” he said, his tone softening into something fiercely steady. “You didn’t choose the bastards coming after you.”

I looked away, swallowing hard. “That doesn’t change what just happened out there.”

“No. But it changes who carries the blame.”

He reached for me, then caught himself, his hand hovering in the small space between us. He was giving me the choice. He wasn't forcing his way in.

I closed the distance myself, leaning into him until his large hand settled gently against my shoulder.

“You survived,” he said quietly. “You fought a grown man off. You escaped. You found your way through a blind service passage and kept yourself alive until I got to you.” His thumb brushed once against my collarbone. “That isn’t something you apologize for.”

My eyes burned hotter. “I was terrified, Jaxon. I thought he was going to kill me.”

“I know.” His voice dropped to a rough whisper. “And I should have been in that room.”

“You were fighting outside! You can’t be everywhere…”

“I should have been there,” he repeated, his dark eyes hardening with an intensity that made my breath hitch. He stepped so close I could feel the heat radiating from his chest. “Nobody gets to lay a finger on you while I’m breathing. Nobody.”

For a long moment, neither of us moved. His hand stayed on my shoulder, solid and warm against the cold air of the basement.

Then Rafe’s voice cut through the radio on Jaxon's tactical vest. “Jaxon.”

Jaxon immediately looked toward the doorway.

“What?”

“Connor is gone.”

The warmth disappeared. Jaxon released me.

“Explain.”

“He left through the south gate before the lockdown was complete.”

“How?”

“We’re still checking.”

Jaxon’s jaw tightened.

“Find him.”

“I’ve got men on it.”

The radio went silent. I stared at the floor. The traitor had been inside the compound. He had stood in the same rooms as me. Passed me in the hallways. Maybe watched me eat breakfast. Maybe watch me sleep. The thought made my stomach turn. Jaxon seemed to notice.

“We’ll find him.”

I tried to nod, but a deep, instinctual dread told me we were already behind.

Before I could speak, Jaxon’s phone vibrated in his grip. He pulled it out, his eyes locking onto the glowing screen. His face went entirely blank, a terrifying, frozen calm that made my blood run cold.

“Jaxon?” I asked, stepping closer. “What is it?”.

He didn’t answer. He simply stared at the screen. I stepped closer.

“Jaxon?”

He turned the phone toward me. A photograph filled the screen.

My blood ran cold. It was me sleeping in my bedroom. The angle was from inside the room. Someone had stood close enough to my bed to take it. I stared at the image, unable to breathe. Jaxon’s face became terrifyingly still. Then another message appeared beneath the photograph.

YOU WERE RIGHT TO TRUST HIM.

A second message followed.

BUT HE CAN’T PROTECT YOU FROM EVERYONE.