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“Intelligence said the compound would be clear of civilians.” The scar near his eye whitened as his jaw clenched. “They were fucking wrong.”

His voice landed heavy in the room, burdened by memory. “We’d been tracking the cell for months. They’d orchestrated three bombings. Killed seventeen civilians. Our orders were explicit. Neutralize the leadership.”

He exhaled slow and hot against her skin.

“The compound was on the outskirts of Sangin. Mud walls, flat roof. Typical compound.” His head dropped. “Breach was at 02:00. I took point. First room—clear. Second—clear. Then the main chamber?—”

His words tumbled, rushing past some unseen dam.

He swallowed.

“There were children there. Five of them. Maybe four to ten years old. Used like barricades. Fucking human shields for grown men.”

He exhaled sharply, then rubbed at his temple like he could scrape the memory free.

“The youngest was a little girl. She had on mismatched socks. One pink, one with a cartoon bear.” His voice cracked, barely audible now. “That’s what I saw first. The socks. Stupid, right?”

His jaw worked, and the details spilled out like shrapnel. “She had this plastic dinosaur clutched in her hand. Bright green, like something from a Happy Meal.”

The image formed in her mind with terrible clarity—tiny bodies positioned in front of armed men. Her training had prepared her for many things, but never for the true weight of impossible choices.

She’d always seen Leo as unflinching. But now she understood what those decisions had cost him.

“Their leader looked right at me. Over this little girl’s head.” His voice cracked. “He smiled, Kat. He fucking smiled—like it was checkmate.”

His hands fisted on his thighs, knuckles drained of color.

“He went for his gun. I had maybe half a second.”

An ache moved down her throat. She wanted to pull him into her arms, soothe the anguish marking his eyes.

“I took the shot. Right between the eyes. He went down.”

He hunched forward as if guarding something deep inside.

“His men panicked. Opened fire before my team could react. So much screaming and blood. So much fucking blood.”

Briefly, he buried his face in his hands as if he could wipe the memory away.

“Three kids died.” He looked directly at her then, his eyes holding a devastation so complete it made her throat ache. “The youngest couldn’t have been over five.”

“I carried them out myself. Scrubbed their blood off my hands while my CO called itacceptable collateral damage. I requested a transfer the next day.”

His chest rose in a sharp, defensive breath. This man, who moved through the world with lethal grace, had been carrying ghosts alone for years.

She’d kept people at arm’s length to protect herself from vulnerability, while he’d done the same to protect others from what he believed was his darkness.

Except the walls he’d built weren’t to keep people out. They were to keep guilt in.

Kat reached for his hand and smoothed the pad of her thumb across his skin. Rough and scarred from a lifetime of choices no one should have to make. The vulnerability in his eyes almost undid her.

This wasn’t the controlled operative she’d worked with, sparred with—watched from a calculated distance. This washer Leonidlaid bare, offering her the darkest corners of himself.

She didn’t offer empty comfort. Instead, she held his gaze. “That’s not on you, Leonid.”

“Three children are dead because of a decision I made.”

“No.” She shook her head once. “Three children are dead because they were put in an impossible situation by people who saw them as tools rather than human beings. You made the only choice you could with what you had.”