Chapter 194
Raven
Katya was still staring at our joined hands like she'd discovered buried treasure. "When you said you liked someone, I thought you meant a classmate. Maybe a college guy." She poked my shoulder. "You did not mention he was—"
"Katya."
"—a literal international—"
"Katya."
"—mercenary king who—"
"I'm going to kill you."
She beamed. "No, you're not. You like me too much."
Sadly accurate.
A distant whump-whump-whump cut through our conversation. I looked up to see a matte-black helicopter cresting the ridge, military-grade but unmarked. It banked smoothly, descending toward the cleared landing zone fifty yards away.
"That's my ride." Nash squeezed my hand once before releasing it. Finally. "Captain Reeves, I believe we're done here?"
General Reeves—very much alive, both hands intact—stepped forward with a broad smile. "More than done, Mr. Wilder. That was textbook execution on the final scenario." He extended his hand. "Thank you for taking time out of your schedule to administer the test personally."
"My pleasure." They shook. "Always happy to help the program."
I stared at Nash. Then at Reeves. Then back at Nash.
"Wait." My voice came out flat. Dangerous. "You work for the government? You?"
Reeves laughed. "Mr. Wilder holds an honorary position as Special Military Advisor to the Joint Chiefs of Staff. No official rank, but full security clearance and—" He glanced at Nash with something like respect. "—considerable influence."
"He's also received the Presidential Medal of Freedom," Ethan added helpfully. "Twice."
Nash's expression remained neutral, but I caught the slight tension in his jaw. Like he wasn't entirely comfortable with the praise.
"You've got to be kidding me." I rounded on Nash. "You. The guy who runs an unsanctioned private military corporation. The one who operates in legal gray zones across the globe." I crossed my arms. "You're basically Batman, and the government just... gave you medals?"
"Three medals, technically."
"Oh my God."
"And a commendation from the UN."
"I hate you."
His smile was pure sin. "No, you don't."
No. I really, really don't.
Which was becoming a serious problem.
Reeves cleared his throat. "For what it's worth, Miss Martinez, Ares Legion might operate outside traditional military structures, but their work is invaluable. Human trafficking rings, weapons smuggling, terrorist cells—Mr. Wilder's forces have dismantled more criminal networks in the past five years than most governments manage in a decade."
I remembered the children. The ones Nash and Finn had rescued from that warehouse while I'd been busy slaughtering Warden's crew.
Traveling the world, enforcing justice. The Chinese phrase popped into my head unbidden.
Nash wasn't just a mercenary. He was... complicated. Dangerous and heroic in equal measure. The kind of man who could hold a knife to your throat one moment and carry orphans to safety the next.
The kind of man I should absolutely, under no circumstances, fall for.
Too late, whispered a traitorous voice in my head.
"So." I forced my attention back to Reeves. "Just me going to this Presidential thing?"
"Typically, yes. Only the winner receives an invitation to the Gala. It's tradition."
"What about Katya and Ethan?"
Reeves' expression softened. "I'm afraid—"
"They're coming with me."
Silence.
Katya's mouth fell open. Ethan looked like he might pass out.
Nash turned to face me fully, and something in his eyes—something warm and utterly genuine—made my chest tight.
"You want to bring your friends?" His voice was soft. Private. Like the rest of the world had faded away.
"Is that okay?"
He studied me for a long moment. Then smiled—not the dangerous smirk or the playful grin, but something real. Vulnerable, even.
"Yeah," he said quietly. "That's more than okay."
He looked at Reeves. "Add two more names to the guest list. Katya and Ethan. Full security clearance. They're with me."
"Mr. Wilder, I'm not sure the protocol—"
"Captain." Nash's tone didn't change, but suddenly the temperature dropped ten degrees. "I'm making the request as Special Military Advisor. If that's insufficient, I'm happy to call the Secretary of Defense directly."
Reeves paled slightly. "That... won't be necessary, sir. I'll make the arrangements."
"Appreciated."
The helicopter touched down, rotors still spinning. Nash gestured toward it. "Ladies? Ethan? Your chariot awaits."
Katya grabbed my arm, bouncing on her toes. "We're going to the White House. The actual White House. With the President."
"Technically," Ethan said weakly, "we're going to a formal state dinner at the White House with approximately two hundred dignitaries, foreign diplomats, and—based on my research of the past ten years of Warfare Specialist winners—at least three heads of state, the Joint Chiefs of Staff, and probably the Director of the CIA." He swayed slightly. "—I think I need to sit down."
"You can sit down in the helicopter." I started walking, pulling Katya with me. "Come on. We've got a President to meet."