After Died for Justice, He Lost Himself

Chapter 6

Michael's words hit like a heavy punch, sending my heart plummeting.

Then, he spat out one final line, his voice thick with raw disgust. "Just thinking that I was once involved with you makes me sick."

Tears rolled down my cheeks one by one as the sound of a disconnected call came from the other end of the line.

I raised my hand to wipe them away, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't get them to stop.

But at least he was safe now. He would never get dragged into this nightmare because of me.

Through blurred vision, I fumbled to block Michael's number.

For the next few days, I stayed glued to Zack's side, playing the part of the devoted fiancée perfectly.

It wasn't long before he officially set our wedding date—just three days away.

When he brought me to a luxury boutique to try on wedding dresses, Zack lifted the delicate edge of my veil and asked, "Happy?"

I smiled from the bottom of my soul, the expression bright and unreadable. "Of course!"

I would finally be able to avenge my father and older brother soon. How could I not be happy?

After a quick fitting for his own suit, Zack left early to handle an urgent breakdown in his supply chain.

I immediately went home and used an encrypted channel to contact my superior, requesting to launch the final takedown on the day of the wedding.

My superior rejected the idea instantly. "Absolutely not. It's far too dangerous, Luna!"

I paused for a moment, gripping my phone tightly until my knuckles turned white. "Uncle William, every key member of the Stephens syndicate will be under one roof for that wedding. It's the perfect chance to decapitate the entire organization in one sweep. We'll never get another window like this, and we can't afford to drag this out any longer."

A heavy silence stretched across the line. I knew the strategic reality had won him over.

Forcing a casual, lighter tone into my voice, I added, "Once the smoke clears on this operation, don't forget to officially exonerate my father and brother, alright? I want them to finally come out of the shadows, draped in the national flag in front of everyone."

Uncle William's voice cracked with a sudden wave of grief. "That's a given. Your father and brother are heroes. So are you, Luna."

I lowered my eyes, my fingers tracing the worn contours of the small red pendant on the desk. The name "Michael Jacobs" carved into the reverse side was etched even deeper into my heart.

"Uncle William, if things go sideways... could you pass a message on to Michael for me?"

Uncle William wasn't just my handler; he was my father's old comrade-in-arms. He knew the entire history of my relationship with Michael, from our happiest days to the staged betrayal.

He shut down the request immediately. "No. Whatever you have to say to him, you'll say it yourself when you walk out of there alive."

I said nothing, because I knew intimately that I might never make it off that wedding altar.

After hanging up, I pulled open the desk drawer and placed the retrieved pendant next to its identical twin.

The two halves, separated for three agonizing years, locked perfectly together again. On the back, the hidden engraving formed a single, unbroken promise: Luna Ziegler and Michael Jacobs, together forever.

In the old days, before any high-stakes police operation, I would spend every available second wrapped in Michael's arms.

But this time...

I was still drowning in those quiet regrets when my phone buzzed with an automated notification from Kindness Hospital reminding me of my scheduled post-op follow-up.

A desperate thought struck me. I could use the medical appointment as a shield—just one last excuse to look at him from afar.

When I arrived at the hospital, my nerves were frayed. I walked past the entrance of Michael's office with studied casualness, but his desk was empty.

A passing nurse noticed the patient slip crumpled in my hand and offered a warm smile. "Are you looking for Dr. Jacobs? He's currently on break in the staff lounge down the hall."

"Thank you," I murmured, tracking the direction she pointed.

As I approached the lounge door, the low murmur of voices drifted through the quiet corridor.

Peering through the narrow gap in the doorframe, my breath hitched.

Michael was kneeling on one knee on the linoleum floor, Hannah's bare foot resting gently against his thigh while he rubbed a soothing medicated ointment into her ankle.

"How were you this careless?" his voice was soft, laced with a familiar, protective exasperation. "Stay off your feet for the next few days."

Hannah looked down at him, her cheeks flushed, the adoration in her eyes completely unmistakable. "I will. Thank you, Michael."

The sight felt like a frozen needle driving straight into my skull, shattering my delusions in an instant.

What was I even doing here? Why was I trying to disrupt the peace I had sacrificed everything to give him?

An ex is supposed to stay buried.

I took a deep, ragged breath and closed my eyes against the stinging behind my eyelids.

Dropping my follow-up slip into the waste bin, I turned back toward the exit and walked away without looking back.