The Wedding He Crashed, The Operation I Scheduled Novel – When I realized my husband’s service pistol was missing, I asked if he might have left it somewhere during training. Before Colton Pierce could answer, his female aide let out a breathy gasp, her cheeks flushed as a wet, black pistol slid slowly from between her thighs, glistening under the light. Something in me snapped cleanly in that moment.
Without hesitation, I dragged Vivian Shaw out of the U.S. Army Central Command Base in Arlington and barred her from ever returning. For the next three years, the two of them had no contact—at least none that anyone knew of. When news of Vivian’s engagement reached the base, Colton’s expression didn’t change; he even smiled and said, “Wish her well.” But on the day of her wedding, he stormed into the venue in a Humvee, shoved the muzzle of his pistol against the groom Michael Hayes’s forehead, and growled, “I’ll cover every cost you spent on this wedding.
From now on, she’s mine.” The scene was recorded and posted online, and everyone praised their “love that defies all rules.” I gave him no more choices. I turned around and booked a scheduled medical termination. *** When the video arrived in my inbox, I was ironing Colton’s dress uniform for his ceremony the next morning. [Eve, isn’t this Major General Pierce?] [He drove a Humvee into someone’s wedding to steal the bride? Is it some kind of mission?] [Is he messing around with that female aide again?] Message after message flooded my phone—some shocked, some gossipy, some laced with thinly veiled pity.
Time snapped back to three years earlier when Colton had assaulted an allied officer for mocking Vivian and ended up on a disciplinary bulletin everyone in the unit whispered about. Same recklessness. Same madness. On the internal command forum, people were already dragging out old scandals: [Holy crap, hijacking a wedding? This is the upgraded sequel to that incident three years ago!] [If the woman you want won’t marry you, you storm in with a gun—Pierce never changes.] [Stop fantasizing. This is obviously a disciplinary violation… but damn, it feels like a romance novel.] I scrolled wordlessly, watching the Humvee screech to a stop under the wedding arch as Colton yanked the bride in white into his arms.
The iron hissed as it scorched the fabric, but I didn’t notice. I called him. The cold, repetitive busy tone told me everything—he had blocked me. A soft laugh escaped me, cold spreading from my chest to my limbs. Just that morning, before heading out for a mission, he had promised to take me to my prenatal checkup. He had once knelt by my hospital bed and sworn he’d be a good husband.
Was I hurt? Not really. The real heartbreak had happened three years ago. I calmly put away the iron and called the hospital. “Please cancel tomorrow’s prenatal appointment. Switch it to a scheduled medical termination—the earliest you have.” Colton came home at two in the morning, and I was sitting on the sofa beneath the dim lamplight with red-rimmed eyes. The tablet on the table played the hijack video in a loop—his voice cold and vicious as he held a pistol to the groom’s forehead and declared, “From now on, she’s mine.” The loop kept running, each replay scraping across my nerves.
Colton walked over, shut off the tablet, and slowly dropped to one knee. He was kneeling—for another woman. The realization was as absurd as it was pathetic. “I know explanations are useless now,” he said, his voice rough and unsteady, “but I swear to you… this was the last time.” “Her father has late-stage lung cancer. They couldn’t afford the surgery.” “She was desperate. She came to me for help. I refused to see her, so she agreed to marry that man.” “I just… felt sorry for her.” Pity.
That word, from his mouth, nearly made me laugh. Covering her disciplinary violation—pity. Pulling strings for her transfer—pity. Shooting an allied officer during an exercise—pity. And now, pointing a loaded pistol at a groom’s head on his wedding day—still pity. “How charitable of you, Major General Pierce,” I said softly. He flinched as if struck. He reached out, eyes rimmed red. “Eve… are you leaving me too?” I looked at him, everything inside me quiet and still. “Colton, the one who betrays first doesn’t get to ask for loyalty.”