Ethan waited until Lily's headphones were secure and her back was turned before sliding open the reinforced steel door that separated his family from the monsters waiting outside.
The man kneeling in the hallway called himself "Wild Dog."
An A-rank mercenary whose reputation for brutality had earned him fear across three continents.
And a bank account that could buy small countries.
In his blood-soaked hands, he held the severed head of "Wrath"—the S-class hunter who'd been sent to eliminate Ethan less than an hour ago. The head's eyes were still wide with the shock of someone who'd discovered too late that some prey fought back with the fury of gods.
"Lord Polaris," Wild Dog said, his voice trembling with the excitement of someone who'd just won the lottery by committing murder, "I present you with proof of my loyalty. The bounty was fifty billion for information, but surely killing your enemy is worth half that amount?"
But Ethan wasn't looking at the trophy.
He was staring at the expensive Italian marble floor.
Now stained with blood that would require professional cleaning to remove completely.
His jaw tightened with the kind of irritation usually reserved for people who didn't use coasters on antique furniture.
"You're dripping on my floor," Ethan said quietly, his voice carrying the disappointed tone of someone addressing a poorly trained pet. "Do you have any idea how much this marble costs per square foot?"
Wild Dog blinked in confusion.
His brain struggling to process why a man worth trillions was concerned about flooring when presented with the head of his enemy.
"I... what?" he stammered, rising to his feet with movements that spoke of decades spent killing people who'd underestimated his speed. "I just brought you the head of an S-class hunter, and you're worried about your fucking floor?"
His hand moved to the tactical knife at his belt.
Muscle memory taking over.
Professional pride overriding survival instincts.
"I am Wild Dog, the Mercenary King of Southeast Asia. I've killed presidents and toppled governments. You will show me the respect I've earned, or I'll add your head to my collection."
---
The threat hung in the air like smoke from a funeral pyre.
Ethan flicked his wrist with the casual precision of someone skipping stones across a lake.
A black credit card sailed through the air.
Landing in the pool of blood at Wild Dog's feet with a soft splash that sounded like destiny arriving ahead of schedule.
**[DING!]**
**[SUPREME DAD SYSTEM - CLEANING FUND ACTIVATED]**
**[EXPENDITURE AUTHORIZED: $50 MILLION USD]**
**[PURPOSE: FLOOR MAINTENANCE AND ATTITUDE ADJUSTMENT]**
"Fifty million dollars," Ethan said conversationally, as if discussing the weather rather than an amount that could fund small wars. "That's your cleaning fee. Consider it hazard pay for dealing with biological waste removal."
Wild Dog's killing intent evaporated like morning mist hit by nuclear fire.
His eyes locked onto the card floating in the crimson puddle.
His brain performing calculations that involved early retirement, private islands, and never having to kill anyone again unless he felt like it.
"Fifty... million?" he whispered, his voice cracking like a teenager asking his crush to prom.
"Don't touch it yet," Ethan said sharply as Wild Dog reached for the card.
He tossed a package of Hello Kitty wet wipes at the mercenary's feet.
"Clean up your mess first. Every drop. Every stain. If I see so much as a pink smudge when you're finished, I'll remove your head with significantly less ceremony than you showed my enemy."
The transformation was immediate and absolute.
Wild Dog—the man who'd made dictators wet themselves with fear—dropped to his knees and began scrubbing the marble with the desperate enthusiasm of someone who'd just discovered that dignity was worth significantly less than generational wealth.
He used the wet wipes first.
Then his tactical scarf.
Then his shirt.
Working with the kind of attention to detail usually reserved for defusing nuclear weapons or performing brain surgery on loved ones.
"Is this acceptable, sir?" he asked, his voice carrying the hopeful tone of a student seeking approval from a teacher who held his future in their hands.
Ethan inspected the floor with the critical eye of someone who understood that perfection was the minimum acceptable standard.
"Adequate," he said finally.
Wild Dog's face lit up like Christmas morning.
---
As they walked toward the car, the six-foot-three killing machine hunched over like a butler, opening doors and using his hand to protect Lily's head from bumping the door frame.
"Daddy," Lily asked with the innocent curiosity that made angels weep with joy, "who's the nice man helping us?"
"Just a hardworking janitor, princess," Ethan said gently, his voice warm with the kind of love that could melt glaciers and make flowers bloom in winter. "He takes his job very seriously."
Wild Dog's spine curved even further as he absorbed the title.
His pride apparently finding new depths to explore in the pursuit of financial security.
"I would lick the ground clean with my tongue if it pleased you, sir," he whispered as Ethan passed, his words carrying the fervent devotion of someone who'd found religion in the form of a bank account balance.
But as their car pulled away from the curb, Ethan's gentle father expression vanished like smoke in a hurricane.
Replaced by something that belonged in nightmares and government black sites.
His phone buzzed with an encrypted message from a dead man.
A final gift from an informant whose "dead man's switch" had just activated with information that would rewrite everything Ethan thought he knew about his wife's fate.
**[ENCRYPTED MESSAGE - GHOST PROTOCOL ACTIVATED]**
**[FROM: DECEASED ASSET "CANARY"]**
**[PRIORITY: MAXIMUM]**
**[CONTENT: SHE'S NOT DEAD. CRYOGENIC SUSPENSION. LOCATION: WONDERLAND AMUSEMENT PARK - BENEATH THE FERRIS WHEEL. YOUR FIRST DATE LOCATION. THEY'RE WAITING FOR YOU.]**
Ethan's pupils contracted to pinpoints as the implications hit him like a freight train loaded with hope and terror in equal measure.
The abandoned amusement park where he'd first kissed the woman who'd become his wife.
Where they'd shared cotton candy and dreams of a future that had been stolen by monsters who understood that some tortures were more effective when they lasted for years.
He yanked the steering wheel hard left.
Tires screaming against asphalt.
Changing course with the sudden violence of someone who'd just learned that everything he'd believed about loss and grief had been a carefully constructed lie.
"Ethan!" Roxanne screamed from the passenger seat as G-forces pressed her against the door. "The hospital is the other way! What are you doing?"
But Ethan was already pressing the accelerator to the floor.
The engine roaring like a mechanical beast that had caught the scent of prey.
His wife wasn't dead.
She was waiting.
Frozen in time like a sleeping princess in a fairy tale written by demons who understood that some happy endings required walking through hell first.
---
The speedometer climbed past legal limits and into the realm of physics-defying desperation.
"Daddy?" Lily's small voice cut through the engine noise, her headphones slipping as she turned to look at him with eyes that held all the trust in the world. "Are we going to see mommy?"
Ethan's hands tightened on the steering wheel until his knuckles went white.
"Yes, princess," he said softly, his voice carrying promises that would reshape reality itself if necessary. "Daddy's going to bring mommy home. No matter what it takes."
In the rearview mirror, he could see Wild Dog following at a respectful distance, the former mercenary king now reduced to a loyal dog who'd tasted the intoxicating flavor of unlimited wealth and unconditional servitude.
The Supreme Dad System hummed with anticipation:
**[DESTINATION: WONDERLAND AMUSEMENT PARK]**
**[ESTIMATED ARRIVAL: 12 MINUTES]**
**[THREAT ASSESSMENT: MAXIMUM]**
**[REUNION PROBABILITY: CALCULATING...]**
**[EMOTIONAL IMPACT: BEYOND MEASUREMENT]**
Behind them, the city burned with the chaos of a criminal underworld tearing itself apart for bounty money.
Ahead of them lay an abandoned playground where childhood dreams went to die.
And somewhere beneath a rusted ferris wheel that had once symbolized their love reaching toward the sky, a woman waited in artificial sleep, unaware that her husband had just learned the difference between mourning the dead and rescuing the living.
The war was about to become personal in ways that would redefine the meaning of love, loss, and the lengths a father would go to keep his family whole.
Some reunions were worth burning the world to achieve.
And Ethan Blackwell was about to prove that some loves were stronger than death, time, and the cruelest tortures that human imagination could devise.
The ferris wheel was waiting.
His wife was waiting.
And after five years of believing he'd failed her, he was about to discover whether frozen hearts could still beat with the rhythm of forever.