Rebirth: A Second chance at life
Chapter 109: Assasins after Jack...

Chapter 109: Assasins after Jack...

The silence in Alexander’s room was deceiving. Outside, the night whispered peacefully over the city, but within these walls, a storm brewed in his chest.

He paced back and forth like a caged animal. The dim light of the bedside lamp cast long shadows across his chiseled face.

Veronica lay curled on the bed, finally asleep after hours of coaxing. He had stroked her hair, whispered soft reassurances, even swallowed his pride to comfort her.

But now...now, fury bubbled in his gut.

"This is ridiculous," he muttered under his breath. "She was never like this before."

"This new Aurora is really being a pain in the ass," he muttered

He stopped in front of the window, fists clenched at his sides. "The old Aurora... she was delicate, soft. Mine."

His voice was bitter. The new Aurora—acting like some cold-hearted warlord—wasn’t the woman he had married.

That Aurora would never throw glares at Veronica, never scold him, never walk away like he was the burden.

He scoffed.

"She should be thanking Veronica. If it wasn’t for her, I’d be dead."

He leaned against the glass, watching the moonlight dance across the garden. A twisted smile crept to his lips.

"I’ll coax her tomorrow," he murmured, "She’ll come around. She always does. She just wants attention."

His phone buzzed. A message from Derek.

Alexander clicked it open—and the moment his eyes scanned the text, his entire expression darkened.

His pupils dilated, jaw tightening like a vice. The message was brief, but the content was like poison to his veins.

Someone put a bounty on Aurora.

Tom—leader of the Sharks—was found dead.

No clear leads yet.

Veronica may be the bait.

Alexander’s breath left him in a low growl. "So they’re using her to get to Aurora?"

He grabbed his phone and dialed immediately.

"Derek," he barked, "Finish them all. No one touches her. And find Aurora. I want to know everything."

"Yes, sir," came the cold response.

Alexander hung up. His fingers tightened around the device.

"She still loves me," he whispered to himself, smile creeping back. "She’s doing all this for my attention."

And with that delusion warming his pride, he prepared for the next day.

Meanwhile, across the coast, the salty wind howled gently around a secluded villa by the beach. The place was deserted, elegant in a haunting sort of way.

Jack stood at the front gate, glancing around. "No guards, no traps," he mumbled. "Too easy."

He entered through the system override Luna had given him—Luna, or Boss, as he called her. He flicked on the lights and moved swiftly to the spot she had marked.

"Under the table, left panel, secret latch..."

Click.

He pulled out a small black device—a phone, old and thick like the type used for encrypted communication. He carefully pocketed it.

"Got it, Boss," he murmured.

But Jack never half-finished his missions. He continued to scour the villa and stumbled upon a hidden chamber in the wall. Inside it, he found a file sealed in a thick plastic case.

"Hello, what do we have here..."

He snapped a photo and sent it to Luna.

Aurora lay curled beneath layers of warm, expensive sheets, her body cocooned in silk nightwear that shimmered faintly under the soft moonlight spilling in from the tall window.

Her long hair, usually tied back with clinical precision, now cascaded loosely over her shoulders like dark waves.

Her sharp features were gentler in sleep, her face serene in a rare moment of stillness.

Sleep was her sanctuary. The one luxury she refused to compromise.

That was until her phone chimed.

Her brows twitched. A low, annoyed growl left her lips as she turned, half-buried in pillows.

"If it’s not someone dying, they better already be dead," she muttered.

Another buzz.

Now fully irritated, she snatched the phone off the bedside table and squinted at the screen, her eyes still adjusting. A message from Jack.

Her thumb hesitated for a second before tapping it open. An image loaded—a photo of a classified file, one she had suspected was buried deep in that villa.

She stared for a moment, scanning the content with practiced eyes, her sleep-laced fog evaporating in seconds. Without another thought, she typed one word:

"Bring."

No emojis. No pleasantries. Just a command.

Then, as if nothing had happened, she dropped the phone back on the table, turned over, and shut her eyes again.

But there was a faint, knowing smirk tugging at the corner of her lips.

Back at the villa, Jack was pocketing the file when—

Click.

The cold, unmistakable press of a gun barrel met the back of his head.

"Well, damn," Jack muttered.

He slowly raised his hands and turned. Two masked men stood before him, guns aimed. Their posture screamed military, but Jack wasn’t fazed. He smirked, tilting his head.

"Gentlemen, you could’ve just knocked."

They didn’t laugh.

"We want the phone," one said.

Jack’s smile widened. "Of course you do."

In a blur, he ducked, rolled, and drew his pistol. Shots rang out. One missed by inches. Jack was already in motion, closing the gap between them.

BAM!CRACK!

Fists met flesh. Steel hit bone. Jack took them both down in seconds. But more footsteps echoed through the hallway.

"Shit," he muttered, seeing the numbers.

"Should’ve kept my mouth shut at HQ," he grumbled. "Dumbass. Wanting to impress Boss like some hero."

He looked up as a dozen more entered.

One laughed. "Hand over the phone. Maybe we’ll let you crawl out."

Jack grinned despite the blood dripping down his lip. "If I call my boss... you’re all dead."

The lead assassin chuckled. "Then call your boss. Let’s see if she tucks you in tonight."

That did it.

Jack leaped off the first-floor balcony, landing hard and sprinting toward the black SUV parked outside. He skidded to a stop by the passenger door—and froze.

Locked.

He banged on the glass. "OPEN THE DAMN DOOR!"

Inside, Max—his teammate—sat calmly wearing noise-canceling headphones, bobbing his head to music.

Jack’s eyes bulged. "Are you SERIOUS?!"

He kept pounding, but Max was too deep into whatever idol song he was vibing to. Jack turned as the assassins closed in.

The leader stepped forward, laughing. "Boss won’t save you now."

Jack said nothing. Blood smeared his cheek. His eyes burned with resolve.

"Come and get it then."

Gunfire. Fistfights. Screams. Jack fought like a madman. They hadn’t expected him to hold out this long.

Bloodied and limping, he took down five men before the leader struck him across the ribs. Jack gasped but didn’t fall.

The assassin behind him smirked, pretending to be unconscious—he raised a gun.

Bang!

The man dropped, lifeless.

Jack spun around. Max stood there, finally awake, gun smoking in his hand.

"You took your sweet time!" Jack shouted.

"Smack"

Max pouted. "Boss, why the smack?! I just saved you!"

Jack smacked him again. "Why didn’t you open the damn door?!"

"I was listening to ’Star’s’ new song like you said! You told us not to disturb you!"

"You—!" Jack reached into his pocket...and found the keys.

Max grinned. "You had the key the whole time?"

Jack stared at him. Then smacked him again.

"Let’s go."

They drove off. Blood crusted on Jack’s knuckles. He typed a message.

Boss, I was attacked during the pickup. Don’t worry, everything is safe. And I’m... mostly safe too.

I’m bleeding though... will you treat me?

He sent it, adding extra cute emojis for good measure.

A full minute passed.

Then, the reply came:

You bleed, you learn. Next time take backup.

Jack gulped.

"...She’s a devil," he whispered.