Chapter 7: The Truth About Ethan

Mia sat across from Ethan in the dimly lit motel room, her mind racing with everything that had happened in the last twenty-four hours. She had gone from a normal life—work, friends, an uneventful routine—to being chased, hunted, and forced to go on the run with a man she barely knew.

But that wasn’t the part that terrified her the most.

What terrified her was the way Ethan spoke about killing.

The way he moved, calculated and confident. The way danger didn’t seem to shake him.

He wasn’t a normal man.

And if she was going to trust him with her life, she needed answers.

Mia leaned forward, gripping the edge of the bed. “Who are you, Ethan?”

Ethan, who had been loading a handgun with quiet precision, paused.

He glanced up at her, his expression unreadable. “I already told you.”

Mia shook her head. “No. You told me just enough to keep me from asking too many questions. But I’m done playing along blindly. I need to know the truth.”

Ethan exhaled slowly, as if weighing his options. Then, after a long pause, he set the gun down on the bedside table and met her gaze.

“My real name isn’t Ethan Carter.”

Mia’s heart skipped a beat. “What?”

Ethan’s lips twitched into something that wasn’t quite a smile. “That’s just the name I go by now.”

Mia swallowed hard. “Then what’s your real name?”

Ethan hesitated, his fingers tapping against his knee. “It doesn’t matter.”

Mia scoffed. “It matters to me.”

Ethan sighed, running a hand through his dark hair. “Fine. It was Ethan Calloway—a long time ago.”

Mia frowned. “Why did you change it?”

Ethan’s jaw tightened. “Because Ethan Calloway doesn’t exist anymore.”

A cold shiver ran down Mia’s spine. “What does that mean?”

Ethan studied her for a moment, then leaned back in his chair. “I was in special operations. Intelligence. Black ops.”

Mia’s stomach twisted. “Like a spy?”

Ethan smirked. “Something like that.”

Mia shook her head. “No. That doesn’t explain how you’re involved in this.” She gestured to the photos of herself on the table. “How does a former spy end up protecting a woman he met during a one-night stand?”

Ethan’s expression darkened. “Because I wasn’t just a soldier. I was a fixer.”

Mia frowned. “A fixer?”

Ethan exhaled. “When powerful people needed problems to disappear, they called people like me.”

Mia’s breath hitched. “Disappear? As in…?”

Ethan nodded. “Exactly.”

Mia stilled.

She was sitting in a motel room with a man who had killed people for a living.

Her pulse quickened, but she forced herself to stay calm. “And now?” she asked carefully. “Are you still… doing that kind of work?”

Ethan’s gaze flickered. “Not for them.”

Mia swallowed hard. “Then for who?”

Ethan hesitated. “For people who need protection.”

Mia’s brows furrowed. “Like me?”

Ethan’s jaw clenched, but he didn’t answer.

Mia’s breath caught in her throat. “You knew.”

Ethan’s eyes darkened. “Knew what?”

Mia’s hands trembled as she grabbed the photos again. “You knew I was being watched before last night, didn’t you?”

Ethan’s silence was deafening.

Mia’s heart pounded. “Tell me the truth, Ethan. Why were you in that bar? Why did you come home with me?”

Ethan exhaled slowly, his fingers curling into fists. “Because I was sent to watch you.”

Mia’s stomach dropped.

She shot to her feet. “You were sent?” Her voice shook with rage. “By who?”

Ethan’s expression was unreadable. “That’s complicated.”

Mia’s fists clenched. “Uncomplicate it.”

Ethan stood, towering over her, his voice low and serious. “A year ago, I got a call from a contact in the intelligence world. He told me someone powerful was looking for you. Someone dangerous.”

Mia’s breath came in short gasps. “Who?”

Ethan hesitated. “A man named Victor Moreau.”

Mia’s blood ran cold.

She had never heard that name before. But the way Ethan said it—like it carried weight, like it was something to be feared—it sent chills through her body.

Mia shook her head. “Who the hell is Victor Moreau?”

Ethan’s jaw tightened. “A man you don’t want to meet.”

Mia felt her chest tighten. “Why is he after me?”

Ethan hesitated. “That’s what I was supposed to find out.”

Mia’s heart pounded. “So you approached me. Pretended to be just some random guy at a bar.”

Ethan’s expression softened. “It wasn’t like that.”

Mia laughed bitterly. “Oh? Then what was it like?”

Ethan stepped closer, his voice low. “I was sent to watch you, not to get involved. But when I saw you that night—alone, vulnerable—I couldn’t walk away.”

Mia shook her head, backing away. “So what? You felt sorry for me?”

Ethan’s eyes locked onto hers. “No.”

Mia swallowed hard. “Then why?”

Ethan’s gaze burned into hers. “Because the second I met you, I knew I wouldn’t let anything happen to you.”

Mia’s breath caught in her throat.

Silence stretched between them.

Finally, Mia whispered, “So now what?”

Ethan’s lips pressed into a thin line. “Now, we stop running.”

Mia frowned. “What does that mean?”

Ethan’s expression was deadly serious. “It means I’m done hiding. It’s time to hunt the hunter.”

Mia’s pulse quickened. “You mean…?”

Ethan nodded. “We’re going after Moreau.”

Mia’s stomach twisted. She had never imagined being caught up in something like this. But at the same time…

She was tired of being afraid.

She took a deep breath, meeting Ethan’s gaze. “Then let’s do it.”

Ethan’s lips curled into a slow smirk.

“This just got interesting.”