Chapter 3 - The Man Who Was Supposed to Be DeadAlejandro stood in the kitchen doorway.
Dust covered his military uniform. His face was thinner than Elena remembered, his eyes darker, harder, shaped by months of combat and survival.
But he was alive.
For several seconds, Elena could not move.
"Alejandro?"
His expression shattered.
"Elena."
Victoria slowly turned.
The iron slipped from her fingers and struck the floor.
"No."
Alejandro stepped forward.
"I said put it down."
Victoria stumbled backward.
"You can't be here."
"I live here."
The words landed like thunder.
He had returned from a classified extraction operation only hours earlier. His unit had been cut off from communication for ninety days. His status had remained classified while military intelligence worked to recover the survivors.
Someone had used that secrecy to manufacture his death.
And Alejandro already knew who.
His eyes moved to the papers scattered across the table.
Then to his terrified wife.
Then to the iron.
His military training had taught him to control fear.
But nothing had prepared him for seeing the woman he loved standing inches from danger.
He quietly reached for his phone.
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"I called 911."
Victoria's face went pale.
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