The Final Betrayal

Ghosts don't come back to haunt you. Unless they never died in the first place.

Celeste.....

The air in the warehouse was thick with the scent of gasoline and dust, every shadow stretching long under the flickering light. Adrian and I moved like pieces on a board that neither of us controlled anymore. We thought we had set the trap—but we were the ones walking straight into it.

I should have known.

Adrian had orchestrated the perfect meeting, feeding false information through the right channels, ensuring that my father—the man who had betrayed me before I was even born—would have no choice but to show up. The location was ideal, a half-abandoned shipping warehouse at the docks, plenty of exits, high ground for our snipers, and most importantly, the advantage of surprise.

Except…we weren't the only ones setting a trap.

The second we stepped inside, the doors slammed shut behind us, locking us in like prey cornered by its hunter.

Adrian's gun was up instantly. Mine followed. But the click of rifles in the darkness told me we were already surrounded.

And then…he stepped forward.

William Carter.

He was composed, untouched by the chaos. Behind him, several agents in tactical gear flanked his every move, and I recognized some of them. FBI agents—dirty ones. The same people I had once called allies.

"You walked right into this, Celeste," he said smoothly, his voice echoing in the cavernous space. "I expected better."

I didn't hesitate. I raised my gun and fired.

But William had anticipated that. He shifted just in time, and before I could fire again, a searing pain exploded through my arm as a bullet ripped through my shoulder. I staggered back, gasping, my vision blurring at the edges.

Adrian roared, moving faster than I had ever seen him, unleashing hellfire. His bullets cut through their ranks, but there were too many. A spray of return fire forced him backward, and I barely had time to react before another shot rang out.

And this time, Adrian grunted, his body jerking backward as blood bloomed across his chest.

"No—" My voice ripped from my throat as I watched him stumble, his legs giving out beneath him. More bullets. More blood. Adrian hit the ground, his gun slipping from his fingers.

I ran to him, my hands already slick with his blood as I pressed down, desperate to stop the flow. "Stay with me," I whispered, my pulse roaring in my ears. "Adrian, look at me—stay with me."

His lips parted, a weak smirk curling at the edge, but his breathing was shallow. "You…really do boss me around too much."

I let out a shaky breath, choking on the panic rising in my throat. "Shut up and hold on."

"Celeste," he murmured, his dark eyes locking onto mine. I swallowed hard, blinking away the sting in my eyes as I cupped his face gently.

"No..no, no, no. You can't get go. You promised we will end all of this togather. I still have so much to ask an— and so much to tell. Hell I still didn't ask you," I whispered. "What does Ogonëk mean? I—

His lips curled, the faintest ghost of a smirk playing at the edge. "It means little fire. Your My Little Fire."His voice was weak, but there was something in the way he said it—reverent, proud, his.

I let out a shaky breath, my fingers tightening against his bloodied skin. "I still didn't tell you... I love you, Adrian Russo. I have loved you since the first time I saw you, even when I wasn't supposed to. Even when I fought it. You asked me if it was all a game. You never were a game. I tried but you could never be a game."

His grip on my hand tightened, as if gathering every last ounce of strength, his eyes dark and turbulent. He sucked in a ragged breath, pain etched across every line of his face, yet his voice was fiercely tender.

"I know," he rasped, each word labored, carrying the weight of every secret he'd kept locked away. "I loved you even when I knew it would break me. I loved you through every lie, every betrayal—through every damned reason I had not to."

A shuddering cough wracked his body, blood staining his lips crimson, yet he refused to release me from his gaze. His eyes burned with the truth he'd fought so hard to hide, now laid bare.

"Celeste," he whispered roughly, his voice breaking. "You were never just my weakness. You were my salvation, my destruction, and every goddamn thing in between."

His breathing grew shallower, eyes flickering with fading strength, but the intensity in his gaze didn't waver.

"And that's why you have to go," he murmured softly, heartbreakingly gentle despite the command. "Because watching you die would end me far more surely than any bullet ever could."

I shook my head violently. "No. No, you are not doing this. You are not leaving me like this." There was something in his gaze, something that sent ice through my veins. He knew.

He knew he wasn't getting out of this.

"No," I breathed, shaking my head. "You're not dying. Not like this."

His fingers curled weakly around mine. "Remember, Ogonëk…" His voice was barely a whisper. "If you set a fire, don't forget to watch where the smoke goes."

Before I could process his words, the ground shook beneath us—an explosion ripping through the structure. The force sent me flying backward, crashing into debris as flames erupted around us. Heat seared my skin, my ears ringing from the blast.

The warehouse was coming down.

I scrambled forward, coughing through the smoke, but Adrian—Adrian was gone.

My hands hit the bloodstained floor where he had been, my heart pounding so hard it felt like it might break apart.

"No," I whispered, choking on smoke and grief. "No, no, no."

A hand grabbed my arm, yanking me up. Dante. His face was covered in soot, his expression grim. "We have to go, Celeste!"

"I can't—Adrian—"

"He's gone," Dante snapped, dragging me toward the exit as flames consumed everything around us. "If we don't move, you'll be too."

I fought against him, my vision blurred with smoke and tears. "Dante, we can't leave him! We have to—"

"There's nothing left!" Dante's voice cracked, his grip tightening. "Celeste, listen to me! If you stay, you die! Do you understand? Adrian is—" He choked, for the first time looking like the weight of the moment was crushing him too. "He's gone. And I can't lose you too."

The words gutted me. I gasped, shoving against his chest, my heart screaming at me to run back, to fix this, to bring Adrian back—but the fire raged higher, the ceiling groaned, and the world around us was seconds from collapsing.

"I can't do this without him," I whispered brokenly, my fingers gripping Dante's jacket.

Dante's jaw clenched. "Yes, you can. But you don't have a choice right now. Move!"

I fought, I screamed, but the fire roared louder. The last thing I saw before the building collapsed was Adrian's blood painting the floor.

Three Days Later

The official reports were in.

Adrian Russo—dead.

The funeral was a quiet affair, the press locked out, only those loyal to him standing in the rain as they lowered the empty coffin. Because there was no body. There was only fire and ash.

I stood in silence, my hands clenched into fists, the world around me nothing but a dull hum. I had failed him.

But grief had no place here.

William Carter had taken everything from me.

And now?

Now, I was going to return the favor.

I wasn't an FBI agent anymore.

I wasn't just Celeste Carter.

I was Adrian Russo's vengeance.