Chased by My Possessive Ex (Dylan) novel Chapter 80

Chapter 80

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HUNTER

I had been walking in circles, back and forth across the room, wearing a path into the floor without even realizing it. My steps were restless, like my body didn’t know how to stay still when my mind was tearing itself apart. The ache in my abdomen throbbed with every movement, sharp and insistent, but it barely registered. That pain was nothing compared to the one clawing at my chest.

All I could think about was Dylan.

The fear of something happening to her wrapped itself around my ribs and squeezed, stealing the air from my lungs. My thoughts spiraled into dark places I couldn’t control-images I didn’t want to see, possibilities I refused to accept. Every second that passed without news felt like another cut, slow and cruel.

If something bad happened to her…

I wouldn’t survive it.

I wouldn’t forgive myself. Not ever.

The guilt was already sinking its teeth into me, even without proof, even without reason. I should have protected her. I should have been there. I should have seen it coming. The what-ifs tortured me, louder than any pain in my body.

And Beckett, I’m already thinking of things I would do to him when I find him. There would be no mercy in my heart for anyone who laid a hand on her, who made her afraid, or who made her bleed.

She was everything.

And the thought of losing her felt like losing the air, the light, and the only thing in the world that ever made

sense.

The room felt too small, too quiet, and too empty without her presence. I pressed my hands to my face, breathing hard, praying into the silence.

Please be okay.

Please, just be okay.

And if she wasn’t…

God help anyone responsible.

I was startled when my phone buzzed.

The sound was sharp and loud in the silence, and my heart slammed against my ribs before I even looked at the screen. I grabbed it instantly, my fingers tight, almost shaking.

“Talk,” I snapped the second I answered.

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Chapter 80

“Boss,” one of my men said, breathless. “We found her. We have the madam’s location.”

Everything in me froze for half a second.

Then the world snapped back into focus.

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“Where?” My voice stayed low and even, but inside me everything was on fire. Rage burned in my chest. Fear twisted in my gut. Urgency flooded my veins. It all crashed together like a storm trapped inside my body, nowhere to go, nowhere to break.

He gave me the coordinates-fast, clean, exact.

Street names. Numbers. Landmarks.

Each word carved itself into my mind like a blade.

My jaw tightened until it ached, muscle locking hard enough to hurt. My teeth ground together as I pictured the place, mapped the streets, and traced the routes in my head.

“How many?” I asked.

Not where she was.

How many stood between me and her?

There was a pause on the line. Too long.

“Three confirmed outside the perimeter, boss. Two inside. Armed. Professional. Not street-level.”

My fingers tightened around the phone until my knuckles went white. The plastic creaked under my grip.

“So five,” I muttered.

“Yes, boss. Possibly more in rotation, but that’s what we can see right now.”

I shut my eyes for a second. I needed to focus. I’m dealing with Dylan’s safety right now. I don’t know to what extent Beckett is willing to go in his attempt to keep Dylan. Aside from that, knowing that the Velasquez clan was behind Beckett, Dylan’s safety is my top priority.

My men were already moving before I finished the call.

The room transformed in seconds-from a sickroom into a war zone. Weapons were checked and rechecked. Vests pulled on. Holsters secured. Voices stayed low, clipped, and efficient. No wasted motion. No wasted words. They knew what this meant.

They always did.

One of them slid a tablet into my hand, the screen lighting up with satellite images and rough layouts. “We’ve got eyes near the perimeter. Limited movement.”

Another man stepped in with a jacket-reinforced, dark, familiar. I shrugged into it without hesitation,

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Chapter 80

ignoring the way my body protested. Pain tried to claw its way back in.

I shoved it aside.

“Entry teams?” I asked.

“Two,” he replied.

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I looked at them, at the men who had bled with me, killed with me, and followed me into places no one should come back from.

“No mistakes,” I said, my voice steady, lethal. “She comes out untouched. Anyone who gets in the way doesn’t.”

They nodded. No questions. No doubt.

I turned toward the door, my hand already on the handle.

“And nobody touches her,” I added, my voice dropping into something dark and deadly. “Not a finger.”

Silence on the line for half a second.

“Understood.”

I ended the call and pulled the jacket tighter around me.

The pain in my body vanished. The room vanished. The past, the blood, the Velasquez name-all of it faded into nothing.

There was only one thing left.

Dylan.

I was already moving, already heading down the corridor, already preparing for war if that’s what it took.

Because if anyone thought they could take her from me-

They were already dead.

*

*

*

The convoy cut through the night like a blade.

Engines stayed low, headlights off as soon as we left the city limits. The road narrowed, asphalt giving way to dirt, then gravel. Trees closed in on both sides, their branches forming a canopy that swallowed the moonlight. This was Beckett’s kind of place-isolated, quiet, and easy to disappear in.

I sat in the back seat, one hand braced against my abdomen, the other clenched tight enough to hurt. Every

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bump in the road sent a sharp reminder through my body that I had no business being here like this.

I ignored it.

A screen glowed faintly in front of me, a live feed from drones already in position. The house appeared piece by piece-two stories, wood-paneled, lights on in only a few rooms. Too calm. Too neat.

A cage pretending to be a home.

“Perimeter confirms two guards,” a voice murmured through the comms. “Both posted outside. Slow rotation.”

I exhaled through my nose, my gaze never leaving the feed on the screen.

Too easy.

The Velasquezes never left anything this exposed. Not when something mattered. Not when they had leverage. They layered security the way other people layered lies-redundant, invisible, and deadly.

“This is too clean,” I said quietly. “They wouldn’t be this careless.”

Silence followed for a beat, the kind that meant everyone listening had reached the same conclusion.

“Agreed,” another voice came in. “Thermals are… odd. There’s interference near the east wing. Could be shielding.”

Of course there was.

A decoy perimeter. Just enough presence to make an amateur feel safe. The real defenses would be inside- hidden rooms, blind corners, and men who didn’t wear uniforms or stand in the open.

Men trained by the Velasquezes.

“Adjust approach,” I ordered. “Assume interior resistance. Silent until contact. No hero moves.”

My fingers curled slowly. If they were involved, this wasn’t just about keeping Dylan in.

It was about drawing me out.

About seeing how far I’d go for her.

I leaned forward, eyes hard. “They want me to think I’m ahead. That’s fine. Let them.”

Because if this was a trap-

Then I’d burn it down from the inside.

I tapped the side of the screen, expanding the layout. The house looked ordinary-too ordinary. But I knew better than to trust appearances. Ordinary was the Velasquezes’ favorite disguise.

“Drone two, sweep the east wing again,” I said. “Low altitude. I want heat signatures, not guesses.”

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Chapter 80

“Copy.”

:

:

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The feed flickered, then sharpened. Shapes bloomed faintly in the infrared-furniture, walls, and the residual warmth of recent movement. Then, just for a second, something shifted.

“There,” one of my men muttered. “Basement level. That’s not structural.”

A hidden space.

My jaw tightened. Beckett hadn’t built that. He’d inherited it.

“Sub-level confirmed,” the voice continued. “At least three heat sources. Stationery. Armed, most likely.”

So the guards outside were the bait. The real threat was waiting underground, where screams wouldn’t travel and blood wouldn’t stain the front porch.

Classic Velasquez.

I closed my eyes briefly, steadying my breath. Somewhere in that house, Dylan was counting steps, watching shadows, and pretending not to be afraid. The thought sharpened my focus until everything else faded.

“Change of plan,” I said. “Team Alpha, breach west. Team Bravo, secure basement access. I’m going in with Alpha.”

“Boss-”

“I said I’m going in.”

No argument this time.

The men moved, splitting cleanly, disappearing into the dark. I followed, every step measured, every sound calculated. The house loomed closer, lights glowing warmly behind glass like an invitation.

A lie.

My hand tightened around my weapon.

“Dylan,” I thought, fierce and silent. “Hold on.”

Because if the Velasquezes had built this place to trap monsters-

They were about to find out what happens when a worse one comes knocking.

We moved in sync, shadows sliding between trees and stone. Gravel crunched once under a careless boot-

then nothing. A guard never even had time to turn. He went down silent, eased to the ground like sleep had claimed him. The second followed moments later, surprise frozen on his face.

“Perimeter clear,” Alpha whispered.