Agent Zoey!

Raven.

“Something’s off,” I muttered, dragging a hand down my jaw as I watched the estate footage again.

Katherine didn’t look up from the mirror where she was applying dark lipstick. “Something’s always off with Thorne. Be more specific.”

I paused the screen, an overhead drone image of Thorne’s compound, tighter security than usual. More guards. More movement. An unusual pattern in his routines.

It wasn’t the kind of chaos that came from weakness. It was the kind that came from protecting something.

Or someone.

“He’s hiding something.” I leaned closer, zooming in on a window with tinted glass.

“Ever since that warehouse explosion. He vanished for like ten days, and now his men are circling the estate like vultures guarding a feast. You think he's partying in private after avenging his beloved wife?”

Katherine turned, lipstick capped, eyes gleaming with something between mischief and fear. “You think Luna’s ghost came back to haunt him?”

I ignored the jab. “What if she didn’t die?”

“She did,” she said, her voice sharp and cold. “I made sure of it. That was how I proved my loyalty to you.”

I scoffed, eyes narrowing as I stepped closer. “Don’t talk like it wasn’t what you always wanted. You didn’t do it for me, Katherine. You did it because you craved what she had. My request only gave you the excuse to finish what you’d been planning all along.”

She poured the wine with a grace too practiced. Crimson liquid swirled in the glass like blood on silk, her red lips curving into a smile that never quite reached her eyes.

Katherine or Zoey, as I sometimes forgot to call her was trouble wrapped in temptation.

“You’ve been quiet,” she said, settling beside me like a cat who knew the power of her claws. “Is Thorne giving you nightmares again?”

I didn’t answer immediately. My mind had been racing all day. Something felt off. The kind of off that made my gut knot and my instincts scream.

“I don’t have nightmares,” I muttered. “I give them.”

She laughed lightly, touching my thigh. “Then what’s wrong? You look like you just crawled out of hell.”

“I keep feeling like I’m missing something.” I stared at the fire dancing in the hearth. “Something’s happening behind my back, and I don’t like being left in the dark.”

Katherine’s smile tightened. “Then bring a torch. Or burn the whole place down.”

I glanced at her. That smile… it was almost too calm.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

She tilted her head, her voice turning sugary. “What’s that supposed to mean, my love?”

“You always seem to know things before I do.”

She froze for just a second. Barely noticeable, but I saw it.

“I have good ears,” she whispered. “And loyal friends.”

I leaned in, “Let me ask you something, Katherine… or Zoey. Is there something you’re not telling me?”

She didn’t flinch this time. Just smiled wider. “Plenty. But that’s what keeps it exciting, doesn’t it?”

I studied her for a long moment, watching the way the firelight played off her face.

Shadows flickered along her cheekbones, softening the sharpness, almost making her look innocent.

Almost.

“You keep forgetting whose game you’re playing,” I said quietly. “Secrets only stay powerful when they’re yours alone. When they start piling between us, they become threats.”

She leaned back against the couch, swirling the wine again, gaze thoughtful. “And what are we, Raven? Partners? Lovers? Enemies with benefits? Maybe I like a little danger in my pillow talk.”

“Don’t mock this,” I snapped, sharper than I intended. “I’ve bled for this war. Buried men I used to drink with. Watched friends turn into ashes, and for what? To be blindsided in my own home by the one person who’s supposed to have my back?”

Katherine’s face hardened, but her eyes flickered with something I couldn’t place. Guilt? Regret?

Or worse—truth?

“I never promised honesty,” she said softly. “I promised loyalty. And I’ve given you that, even when it tore pieces out of me.”

Silence.

Even the fire quieted for a moment, as if holding its breath.

Katherine’s lips trembled, only for a second, then hardened again. “If you’re doubting me, say it. Don’t wound me with poetry.”

I reached out and gently took the wine glass from her hand. Set it down on the marble table between us. Then I cradled her jaw in my palm, thumb brushing her cheek.

“I want to believe you, Zoey.”

Her eyes widened at the sound of that name. A name soaked in secrets, stained in betrayal.

“But if you lied, if you left anything out that puts what we’ve built at risk.....”

I leaned closer, my breath brushing her skin.

“I’ll burn you down with everything else.”

Her eyes glistened, not with tears, but something darker. Something dangerous.

“I’m not afraid of fire,” she whispered. “I was born in it.”

We stayed like that, locked in a war of glances, her jaw in my grip, the space between us a battlefield.

She leaned in and kissed me.

Slow. Gentle. Almost… tender.

But it wasn’t affection. It was a dare.

When she pulled back, her voice was velvet.

“If she’s alive,” she said, “then you and I are already dead.”

And with that, she rose, brushing imaginary dust from her dress like she hadn’t just set a match to the room.

I sat still, staring at the fire, feeling the kiss like a brand on my mouth.

In one swift motion, she untied the thin belt cinching her silk gown, letting it fall like a whisper to the marble floor.

It pooled at her feet, forgotten because nothing else in that moment mattered.

Her body was a vision painted in contradiction: a delicate purple bra clashing with red lace panties, bold and unapologetic.

A body men would sell kingdoms to possess.

Her heart? Her love? She could keep those.

She turned, slow and deliberate, eyes locked on mine. Then she did the one thing that could undo me without a word, she touched me with a single fingertip, pressing lightly against my chest.

And I fell.

Not just onto the bed, but into her trap.

She climbed on top of me with the grace of a predator, her hand gliding over the exact place that made reasons vanish.

I growled, grabbing her, flipping her under me like instinct.

My mouth crashed into hers, hunger overtaking everything.

But the door burst open.

I froze, lips inches from her throat.

The man who barged in didn’t flinch at the scene. Either he was suicidal, or what he had to say was more dangerous than interrupting me mid-fuck.

My glare alone should have turned him to ash.

“This better be worth your life,” I snarled.

He didn't wait. “Someone’s been spotted asking around town for Agent Zoey.”

That name sliced through the room like ice water.

Katherine’s body went rigid beneath me. She sat up instantly, all seduction gone, replaced with cold dread.

Someone was looking for her.

But not as Katherine.

As Zoey.

That was the part that made my blood run colder than the gunmetal in my veins.

Why not her current identity? Why reach for the ghost she’d buried?

I rose from the bed, slowly, rage and suspicion building like a ticking bomb in my chest.

“Who the hell is asking?” I asked, voice low.

No one answered. Yet.