MasukLeo's POV The visiting room reeks of sweat that clings to everybody in here. I’m sitting across from Fernandez, Olivia's father with this big glass wall between us, like it’s gonna stop whatever venom he’s about to spit. My knuckles are still in bandage, they throb against the cold metal counter.Two guards are slouch by the door, bored out of their minds, eyes half-closed like they’re about to nod off. Fernandez looks smaller than I remember. Kind of shrunken. The guy who once ran half the city’s nasty underground crimes, treating people like they were just cargo, now he’s chained to a metal ring on the table. But those eyes, they haven’t changed. Still calculating and focused, like he’s already figured me out and finds it funny.“You came all this way to gloat, Agent Masters?” His voice comes out smooth, almost bored. “Or wait, Leonard now? I don’t even know what to call you these days.”“Leonard works,” I mumble, trying to keep it flat. “That’s the name I had when I fucked you
OliviaThe black SUV has been parked across from my apartment building for three days.I first noticed it Tuesday morning when I left for work. Same SUV Tuesday night when I came home. Wednesday morning, still there. Wednesday night, same position. Now it's Thursday, and the vehicle hasn't moved except for brief intervals—probably shift changes.Someone is watching me.I tell myself I'm paranoid. That after the mall incident, I'm seeing threats everywhere. I'm making coffee when my phone rings. Dad."Olivia, we need to talk. Can you come to the house?"Something in his voice makes my stomach drop. "Is everything okay?""Just come. Now. And Olivia?" He pauses. "Be careful driving. Check if anyone's following you."He hangs up before I can ask why.I look out my window at the black SUV. Still there. Still watching.I grab my keys and pepper spray—a recent purchase that now lives in my purse—and head downstairs. The SUV's windows are tinted, so I can't see who's inside, but as I walk to
Leo“Argh fuck!”The gunshot misses me by inches. I feel the heat of the bullet pass my ear as I drop and roll behind a shipping container. My arm explodes with pain—a second shooter, different angle. The bullet caught my bicep, tearing through muscle.I clamp my hand over the wound, blood hot and slick between my fingers. Through the chaos of gunfire and shouting, I see Viktor retreating toward the back exit, laying down covering fire.The CIA operators are focused on the containers, on securing the trafficking victims. They're not here for arrests—they're here for extraction. Whoever ordered this op wants the women moved before FBI can claim the case.I use the distraction to crawl toward the service corridor, my wounded arm screaming with every movement. Blood trails behind me on the concrete floor.Behind me, I hear containers being forced open. Women crying out in confusion and terror. Orders being shouted in English with military precision.I make it to the corridor and stagger
Leo I head back to my office, trying to look casual. At my desk, I pull up the security footage Fernandez asked me to review. Hours of camera feeds from all the facilities—the main warehouse, the eastern complex, the secondary warehouse where they're holding the trafficking victims.I'm scanning through footage from three days ago when something catches my eye. A figure in the parking lot of the eastern warehouse, late at night, standing in the shadows. The camera angle is wrong to get a clear view of their face, but they're definitely watching the building.Surveillance. Someone casing the facility.I screenshot the image and keep scrolling. There—same figure, different angle. Still no clear facial recognition, but the body language is distinctly professional. Military bearing. Careful positioning to avoid direct camera exposure.Either someone is watching our operations, or Fernandez has rivals doing reconnaissance.I'm about to flag it for Fernandez when I notice something that ma
LeoI'm reviewing shipping manifests when Malcolm bursts into my office without knocking. His face is pale, his usual composure completely shattered."Turn on the news. Now."I grab the remote and flip to CNN. The headline scrolls across the bottom of the screen: INTERNATIONAL SHIPPING MAGNATE FOUND DEAD IN APPARENT ASSASSINATION.The reporter stands outside a luxury hotel in Manhattan. "...Alexei Petrov, Russian businessman and owner of Petrov Shipping International, was found dead in his hotel suite early this morning. Sources say he was shot execution-style. Police are investigating possible connections to organized crime...""Fuck." Malcolm runs both hands through his hair. "This is bad. This is really bad.""Who's Petrov?" I ask, though I already know from my case files. Alexei Petrov runs one of the largest shipping operations in Eastern Europe—a direct competitor to Fernandez's trafficking network."One of Fernandez's biggest rivals. They've been at war for years over territory
LeoThe recording is still playing in my headphones. Fernandez is talking about "clearing liabilities" again—those sick girls who aren't profitable enough to justify keeping alive.I think about Olivia, asleep in her apartment, dreaming about venues and dresses. She has no idea her father is a monster. I should tell her. Should warn her what's coming. But I can't. Because she might warn Fernandez. He is still her father. And as much as I hate this, my first duty is to the mission, not to protecting Olivia's feelings.My phone buzzes again. A text from Malcolm: Boss wants you at the secondary warehouse at 8 AM. We're doing inventory.Inventory. Of human beings held in a locked room.This might be my chance.I shower and dress in jeans and a work shirt, then check my equipment. The camera in my watch is charged. I have a backup recording device in my belt buckle. My phone has encrypted storage for any photos or videos I can capture.At 7:45, I'm pulling into the secondary warehouse par
Chapter 22LeonardI stare at my phone as Olivia's name flashes on the screen. Third call today. It takes every ounce of restraint to keep my fingers to myself, letting it go to voicemail. Nick is worried she's a distraction and hasn't stopped reminding me of everything at stake if I fail to do my
Leonard“Kill me,” I mutter underneath my breath as I lean a bit closer to Olivia. I had no idea of this party until this evening when I got her message. Olivia's father wanted us to be here by all means. I couldn't let her down. She owes me a fucking whole lot. The crystal chandelier above casts
LeonardOlivia's body is warm against my palm as I flutter my eyes open. I have no idea when I got my arm around her after we had slept off. Her breaths are steady as I watch her for a moment. Lips parted in the tiniest space. I get the urge to kiss them but I stop myself. Last night was incredibl
Olivia “What?” The coffee cup trembles in my hands as Emma leans forward across the small café table, her voice dropping to barely above a whisper. “I'm just saying, Olivia, don't you think it's strange how Liam never talks about his childhood? Or his family?"I set the cup down, the ceramic cli







