Chapter 4

Even though Eleanor's parents still treated Dylan coldly, they ultimately proved no match for their daughter's sheer stubbornness.

They eventually gave in to her demands and agreed to host the wedding at the local town hall.

It was a small, understated ceremony attended mostly by the soldiers who had served alongside us in the field.

When Dylan finally walked up to the altar with Eleanor, looking exceptionally sharp in his white tuxedo, I noticed that the eyes of the entire room kept drifting back to me.

"Everyone here knows how tirelessly Dr. Pierce searched for her over the last two years," someone whispered. "Yet, Captain Ashby woke up from her coma only to marry another man."

"During our deployment, the army newsletter literally described them as the ultimate power couple," another guest added. "We all thought they were a match made in heaven, so it's sad to see it end like this."

"If I were in Callum's shoes, I would be making a scene and tearing this entire hall apart instead of just sitting here quietly watching them tie the knot."

Just then, the light bulbs hanging from the ceiling suddenly short-circuited and began detonating in a shower of violent sparks.

The entire hall was instantly plunged into darkness, and the crowd immediately erupted into a panic.

I instinctively stepped back into the shadows of the back row to avoid the commotion, but a hand unexpectedly clamped around my wrist with an iron grip.

A piece of gauze soaked in chloroform was clamped tightly over my mouth and nose, and the last thing I experienced before losing consciousness was a chorus of deafening screams.

I had no idea how long had passed when I heard Dylan's muffled, furious hiss nearby.

"Damn it! Who told you to pull this at the wedding? I hired you guys to stage a fake kidnapping and pin it on Callum! Who told you to actually bag him, too?

"You morons! I don't care how realistic it looks, you aren't getting a single dime because you completely ruined my plan!"

When I gradually snapped back to myself, the pieces of the puzzle clicked together instantly.

This was just another one of Dylan's calculated setups, but this time, the situation had clearly spiraled completely out of his control.

While I was struggling against my captors earlier, my hand had brushed against a standard-issue military knife clipped to one of their belts, which meant these men were definitely not the simple village locals Dylan thought he had employed.

What made my stomach drop even further was the familiar accent of the man leading the crew.

He sounded exactly like one of the blacklisted suppliers from the military logistics corruption scandal that Eleanor had busted the previous year.

After what felt like an eternity, the kidnappers finally connected a video call to demand their ransom, and Eleanor's tense face appeared on the screen.

The leader of the group barked into the phone in broken Corvian, "Alright, Eleanor, you have two choices here. One is the ex-fiancé who stood by your side for ten years, and the other is the husband you chose after losing your memory. Tell us who gets to live."

Eleanor fought desperately to maintain her composure, but her fists clenched so tightly that her knuckles turned white the moment the frame shifted to show Dylan's bound wrists.

"Let him go right now!" she yelled. "I have all the evidence you want right here, and if you lay a single finger on him, I will make every last one of your men disappear from these mountains!"

I kept my eyes shut tightly, but my eyelids burned with tears that I could no longer hold back.

Honestly, it shouldn't have surprised me to hear her say that because I should've accepted her choice a long time ago.

The kidnapper suddenly erupted into a grating, mocking laugh. "Do you really think I'd give you a choice?"

The moment the words left his mouth, Dylan and I were dragged roughly across the floor, shoved into separate heavy wooden crates, and dumped straight into the reservoir.

The crates hit the water with a massive splash, and because they were heavily weighted with lead blocks at the bottom, they began to sink at a terrifying speed.

I quickly fumbled around my pockets for the tactical army knife I always carried, forcing the sharp blade into the tight seams of the wooden crate.

Murky water rushed into the crate, mixing with sharp wood shavings and cutting my face as the crate filled up.

Gritting my teeth, I managed to pry the wooden boards apart, drag an already unconscious Dylan out of his crate, and swim frantically toward the surface.

By the time I finally broke through the water, I was running entirely on fumes, but I knew I couldn't stop now. Using every last ounce of my strength, I shoved Dylan onto a piece of floating timber.

"You'd better survive this," I muttered under my breath.

If he lived, at least the new life Eleanor had built for herself would have a safe and proper ending.

I tried to swim toward the bank while pushing the timber along with me, but the chronic combat injuries I had ignored for years suddenly flared up all at once.

A tearing, agonizing pain ripped through my right thigh, rendering my entire leg completely numb and useless.

Without the strength to fight the current, I began to sink toward the bottom of the lake.

Watching the sunlight dance on the surface above, I slowly closed my eyes.

Whatever.

Maybe this was the end.

Right before my consciousness faded entirely, I thought I saw the silhouette of someone swimming down toward me, reaching out to grab my hand with everything they had.

…

The next time I opened my eyes, I found myself staring up at the stark white ceiling of a hospital room.

A nurse quickly rushed over to my bedside, looking visibly relieved. "Oh, thank goodness you're finally awake. You've been out cold for three days straight!"

"Was anyone else brought in here with me?" I rasped.

The nurse let out a heavy sigh. "Yes. The man brought in with you only suffered a few minor scrapes and bruises. His wife immediately moved him into a private VIP ward and hasn't left his side for a single second.

"But look at you. If you hadn't woken up today, the hospital was going to cut off your antibiotics because your identification was missing. Stopping your medication with a trauma infection like yours would've been a death sentence."

I froze for a second, then tugged the corners of my lips into a hollow, accepting smile.

At that moment, the door to the room swung open softly, and a familiar voice echoed from the threshold.

"Callum."

I snapped my head up. The moment I recognized her face, tears streamed down my cheeks.

"I couldn't get a hold of you, so I had to trace you through the medical corps' leads."

My sister, Caroline Pierce, walked over to the bed and pulled me into a tight embrace while gently patting my back. "Come on. Let's get you home."

She helped me board a small charter flight. The plane punched through the clouds, flying steadily toward our home country.

I wiped away the last of my tears and stared out the window at the sea of clouds, muttering a quiet goodbye in my heart, "Eleanor, I'm letting you go so you can be happy with Dylan. Goodbye, and for good this time."