The Gosht Returns

You thought you buried me? You should have made sure I was dead.

Celeste....

The night air was thick, heavy with the weight of something inevitable.

This was it. The moment I had been hunting for. The moment I had craved.

My father was on his knees, bloodied and breathless. A man who had once stood untouchable, now at my mercy. William Carter, the mastermind behind everything—the lies, the betrayal, Adrian's death—was finally where he belonged. Beneath me.

My gun was steady, my heartbeat wasn't.

"Why?" I asked, my voice steady but cold. I needed answers. Not just for myself, but for Adrian. For everything my father had done. "What was the thing Adrian's father stole from you? What was worth all of this?"

My father chuckled, shaking his head slightly. "You still don't see it, do you?" He exhaled painfully, blood dripping from his mouth. "It wasn't about power, Celeste. It was about taking back what was mine."

I clenched my jaw. "Then tell me. Tell me why you killed Adrian's father. Why you orchestrated this entire thing. Why you dragged me into this war before I even knew I was in it."

He lifted his head slowly, his swollen eyes locking onto mine. "Because he stole your mother from me."

The words sent a crack through my spine. No. No, that wasn't possible.

I stared at him, my stomach churning, my hands gripping my gun tighter. "You're lying."

His smile was bitter, cold, hauntingly sad. "Am I? You've been chasing shadows, Celeste. You thought this was about business? About control? No." He shook his head slowly. "This was personal. It was always personal."

My heart pounded in my ears. My mother had died in an accident—or at least, that's what I had been told.

"What did you do?" I whispered.

William's eyes grew distant, clouded with memories I couldn't see. "Viktor Russo never loved Adrian's mother. She was just another pawn, another piece in his game. And when he had no more use for her, he ended her life himself, making it look like an accident. I know, because Viktor was ruthless enough to brag about it. He never loved Adrian either. His son was merely an heir, a tool to carry on his legacy."

I swallowed hard, my throat tightening painfully as the words sank in.

"But your mother—my Elena—she was everything to me," my father continued, his voice breaking. "I mourned her death for years, believing she died in that fire. Until one day…" His voice cracked, eyes closing briefly as if reliving the moment. "Until one day, I saw her alive. At Viktor's side, happy and laughing like I had never existed."

My hand trembled slightly as my father's voice rose with renewed fury and bitterness.

"She faked her death, Celeste. She left me, left us, to be with Viktor Russo. So I did what any man whose heart had been ripped from his chest would do. I tracked them, and when they were on their way to a weekend getaway, I rigged their car. It exploded exactly as planned. Viktor was gone. Elena was gone. I thought Adrian was with them—that I had taken everything from Viktor, the way he took everything from me. But I was wrong."

My breath came ragged, heart hammering painfully in my chest. "Adrian was never with them."

My father nodded slowly, almost regretfully. "Years later, when I learned Viktor's son survived, built up his empire again, I knew I had to finish it. Adrian was a constant reminder of what Viktor stole. He should've been grateful—I avenged his mother's death. I brought justice."

"You killed Adrian," I hissed, rage and heartbreak woven through my voice. "You took the only person I ever truly loved."

My father's lips twisted into a cold, mocking smirk. "Love destroyed me. It'll destroy you too."

"No," I whispered, stepping closer, pressing the barrel of my gun firmly against his forehead. "You destroyed everything because of a woman who never truly loved you back."

His smile weakened, bitterness still lacing his voice. "History has a way of repeating itself."

I exhaled sharply, eyes burning with tears of rage and grief. "You won't live to see it."

His gaze met mine, defiant even now. "Then finish it, Celeste. End this once and for all."

The weight of every betrayal, every lie, every loss surged through me.

"You took everything from me. From Adrian," I whispered harshly. "This ends here."

I squeezed the trigger— A gunshot rang out. But it wasn't mine. My father's body jerked violently before collapsing forward, a clean hole between his eyes. Blood pooled beneath him, staining the dirt, soaking into the ground.

I staggered back, my breath coming in short, uneven gasps. Who—?

A shadow shifted behind me. Footsteps.

And then, a voice. A voice I knew better than my own heartbeat.

"You really didn't think I'd let you finish this without me, did you?"

The world stopped. Everything I had built, every piece of myself that had shattered and reassembled in Adrian's absence—none of it mattered anymore.

I turned.

And there he was.

Adrian.

Standing in the dim moonlight, blood-stained but alive. Alive.

I sucked in a sharp breath, my chest tightening. My body moved before my mind could catch up—I lunged at him, fists colliding with his chest. Solid. Real. Not a ghost.

"You—" I hit him again. "—were—" Another hit. "—DEAD!"

Adrian caught my wrists, yanking me forward, so close I could feel his breath on my face. "Not dead," he murmured, his voice low, edged with something unreadable. "Just forced into hiding."

I ripped my hands from his grip, shaking, my vision blurring between rage and disbelief. "You let me believe you died, Adrian! You—" My voice cracked. God, I had mourned him. I had broken for him.

His gaze softened, just barely. "I had no choice."

I didn't think. I just moved.

I slapped him—hard. The sharp crack echoed in the silence.

His head barely turned. He took it, standing there like he deserved it.

I stared at him, chest heaving, hands shaking. "You bastard."

Then I kissed him.

Adrian.....

She tasted like war. Like grief and vengeance. Like home.

For weeks, I had watched from the shadows, waiting for this moment. Waiting until every threat against her was neutralized. Until every traitor exposed themselves, confident in their victory.

My disappearance was never about winning a petty game—it was about survival. Lorenzo wasn't acting alone; my entire network had been compromised. The FBI, Lorenzo, William Carter—they'd woven a net tighter than I could've imagined. The night in that warehouse wasn't just an ambush; it was designed as my execution.

I had to disappear to draw them out. If they believed I was dead, they'd reveal their true intentions, their weaknesses. Dante barely managed to pull me from the fire, and from then on, I became a ghost. Untraceable, untouchable. Watching, waiting, planning.

I watched from the shadows as Celeste took control, as she hunted down every enemy I couldn't reach. I needed her to believe I was gone, needed everyone to believe I was gone—because that belief was my greatest weapon. Only then could I truly dismantle everything that threatened her.

William Carter believed he had ended me. He dropped his guard, revealing vulnerabilities only someone truly confident could expose.

You don't bury a man like me. You don't remove me from my city without consequences.

And above all, you never threaten the woman I love.

I pulled back just enough to catch my breath, my hands still gripping her like she might vanish. Her eyes were wild, a storm barely contained. She wanted answers.

"I needed them to believe they had won," I admitted, my voice calm despite the turmoil inside me. "It was the only way to protect you, to protect us."

Celeste's breath hitched, but she didn't speak. She understood.

She let out a sharp, bitter laugh. "That didn't stop me."

"No," I murmured, brushing my fingers over her jaw. "It never could."

She swallowed, her eyes searching mine. "You let me grieve for you."

I nodded, my thumb tracing the edge of her cheekbone gently. "And it nearly destroyed me to watch. But I had to keep you safe. If they'd known I was alive, they would've never stopped coming for you."

She inhaled sharply, her hands clenching my jacket. "Don't you ever do that again."

I smirked softly, despite the lingering ache in my chest. "I won't. Not unless I have to."

Celeste punched my shoulder—hard—but before I could react, she kissed me again, stealing my breath, sealing the moment in blood and fire.

I wasn't dead.

And neither was she.

Together, we were unstoppable.