Page 155 of BounBound By Scars

And went dark.

The ground team hesitated—just long enough to register that something was off.

A half-second later, floodlights erupted from both SUVs—high-beam, tactical-grade, full-spectrum whiteout.

The garden, the mansion, the entire estate was swallowed in blinding light.

Screams. Swearing. Confusion.

I dropped back, ducking behind the curved stone wall of a nearby fountain. Gun clutched, breath shallow.

I choked out a disbelieving laugh. Sebastian had been hiding this neat little feature.

Dragon was yelling into every open comm, demanding reinforcements. “Where the hell is the backup team?! Get them out here now!”

Car doors opened.

One by one, Romano’s ground team dropped. Sharp, silenced hits. No wasted bullets. No hesitation.

It was clean.

Brutal.

Perfect.

My heart hammered. Pride bloomed in my chest.

But so did dread.

I didn’t know if they still considered me one of them.

Or a liability.

A rogue asset.

I stood.

Lifted my rifle slowly, grip loose, barrel pointed skyward in surrender. The floodlights were still too bright—I squinted through the white haze.

I could die right here, I realized.

This would be the cleanest place to cut me out.

I took one step forward.

Then another.

The lights dimmed just enough for shapes to form.

My team.

Sebastian. Zane. Ghost. Dylan.

All of them in matte black gear, bulletproof vests stacked with loaded magazines, like they had rolled straight out of a warzone and into a massacre.

I scanned the space behind them. Where were the others?

Was it really just the four of them?

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