The Past Isn't Gone

Chapter 11: Blood in the Wind

The convoy moved steadily along the highway to Laguna. Two black SUVs, windows tinted, armor-reinforced. The first car carried Elise’s elite bodyguards. The second, quieter—more personal. Luis sat beside Elise in the back, while Ethan sat beside the driver with sharp-eyed focus up front.

“Elise Tower’s clean,” Ethan said, eyes never leaving the road. “No intel suggests any breach. But your estate—that’s a different story.”

Luis nodded grimly. “The pattern of the leaks… the timings… all of it leads back there. Whoever’s feeding the enemy is closer to home than we thought.”

Elise stared out the window, jaw set. “I built that estate to be impenetrable.”

“So did Adrian,” Luis said quietly.

The name hung in the air like a curse.

She didn’t flinch—but her fingers tightened around her seatbelt.

Then, without warning—

CRACK!

The windshield shattered.

A splatter of red exploded across the glass.

The driver’s body lurched forward, slamming into the wheel.

Blood sprayed the inside of the vehicle. Warm. Violent. The air filled with the coppery scent of death.

The car veered.

Ethan shouted, grabbing the wheel hard to stabilize them, already pulling his firearm. “SNIPER!”

Elise screamed.

Not a sharp gasp—not the composed, measured voice of the woman who ruled media empires. This was raw, broken, terrified—a scream pulled from the grave of a memory.

“No—no—Adrian—”

She curled against the door, shaking. Her breaths came in shallow, rapid gasps. Trembling, sobbing. Her lipstick smeared, pupils wide in horror.

“Pull over—NOW!” Luis barked.

Ethan swerved them off the road and into a clearing. Tires screeched. Dust filled the air. The first car ahead had already stopped, agents fanning out, drawing weapons.

Luis didn’t hesitate. He grabbed Elise, pulled her into his arms. She didn’t fight him—only clung to him like a drowning woman, nails digging into his jacket.

“I can’t—Luis—I can’t—he’s back—I saw it—I—”

Luis held her tighter. His hand cupped the back of her head. “You’re safe. I’ve got you. Elise—look at me. Look at me.”

But she wouldn’t. Couldn’t.

Ethan leapt out, firing two rounds toward the direction of the shot, then crouched behind the hood, pressing his earpiece. “Call backup—repeat, we are under fire. Driver down. Elise Cruz is secure. I need extraction now!”

Luis looked at Ethan through the cracked window, his jaw clenched in fury and helplessness.

And in that moment—holding the most powerful woman in the country, shaking like a child—he didn’t see an empire.

He saw her breaking.

And it terrified him more than any sniper ever could.

_________________________

The front gates of the Cruz estate slammed shut behind them, the security system locking with a mechanical growl.

Ethan jumped out first, his shirt still damp with blood from the earlier attack. He barked rapid orders into his earpiece. “Full lockdown. Sweep the perimeter. I want infrared surveillance and all motion sensors online.”

Luis stepped out of the SUV next, then opened the rear door and helped Elise out. She didn’t resist, but she didn’t speak either. Her heels touched the ground like she wasn’t aware of it. Her hands trembled, faint but constant. Her eyes—still wide, still haunted—remained fixed on some invisible point just past reality.

“Move her inside,” Ethan said, his voice tight but steady. “I’ve got the outer line.”

Luis didn’t speak. He simply took Elise’s hand and led her through the marble steps of her own home. The estate that once felt impenetrable now felt like a shattered illusion.

The halls were quiet.

Staff had been ordered to stay in their quarters. The silence was thick with tension, only broken by the faint echo of boots—bodyguards sweeping the house with mechanical efficiency.

Inside the secure wing, Luis guided Elise into the private command room—walls lined with monitors, emergency channels, and encrypted communication links.

She finally spoke.

“Was it him?” Her voice was hoarse. “Was it Adrian?”

Luis glanced toward the door, then closed it. He faced her. “We don’t know. But whoever it was—they knew the route. They knew the exact moment.”

“And they knew where to hit,” she whispered.

A beat of silence.

Then she stepped forward and, to his surprise, laid her hand flat on his chest. Her fingers curled slightly, as if needing an anchor. “Luis… I wasn’t ready.”

“You don’t have to be ready,” he said softly. “You just have to stay alive.”

There was something in his tone—too raw, too close to something else. Elise noticed. Her eyes lifted to meet his.

But before either of them could say anything, Ethan’s voice came through the intercom:

“Clear sweep complete. But there’s something you need to see. Now.”

Luis cursed under his breath, looked at Elise. “You stay here. Lock this door. Don’t open it for anyone but me or Ethan.”

She nodded faintly.

As Luis turned to leave, Elise said quietly, “Luis.”

He stopped.

“Thank you… for not letting me break.”

He didn’t respond—not with words. Just a look. Deep. Conflicted.

Then he was gone.