Chapter 2: Alexis

I understood systems long before I trusted people. Systems were honest. They behaved exactly as designed, and when they failed, you would know it. Predictably. You could map the fault lines if you paid attention and found a solution that did not need guesswork.

People failed quietly. They disappoint you and still act as if nothing happened. I’m fucking done with that.

The door sealed behind me with a low hydraulic sigh, the sound swallowed almost immediately by walls built to absorb more than noise. I kept my pace as I stepped forward. If I slowed down, people would think I don’t belong here and start asking questions. Questions wasted time.

The air inside was cool and clean, filtered to the point of sterility. My boots barely made a sound against the floor. But that was intentional. I appreciate knowing when I’ve been heard.

Cameras were where I expected them to be. Mostly. Upper corner. Secondary angle. Overlapping coverage. Clean work. No blind spots—unless you knew exactly where to stand. Three steps down the corridor, just past the lighting seam. I noted it without breaking my stride.

“Ooh… Close, but no cigar.” I thought and wondered if that was intentional.

The signage was minimal. Something you’ll miss if you don’t know what you’re looking for.

ADMINISTRATION. OPERATIONS. RESIDENTIAL.

No company name. No fancy setup. Just those three words on a nondescript wall.

I followed ADMINISTRATION, rolling my bag behind me at an unhurried pace. My posture stayed loose, my movements efficient. I didn’t think about how I looked walking through the corridor. That had never been my problem.

The access panel outside Administration caught my attention before I consciously registered why. It wasn’t the scanner itself, but the analog override embedded beside it. Mechanical. Redundant. Old-school.

Interesting. Someone didn’t trust the software to do its job.

I leaned in just enough to study it.

“You’re not cleared for that.”

The voice came from behind me.

Cold. Calm. Controlled.

My body went very still. Not from fear nor surprise. Something quieter. Like the moment right before a storm breaks, when the air thickens, and everything holds its breath.

I straightened and turned slowly.

He stood a few feet back, positioned near the corridor junction as if he’d always been there. Tall. Broad-shouldered. Dark hair worn longer than the allowed regulation, pulled back loosely. Green eyes. Sharp and unapologetic.

“This area isn’t open to public access,” he said. “Step away from the panel.”

Ah. There it was. The underestimation. Every single time.

Something inside me cooled into focus.

“Mmm. My clearance begs to differ,” I replied evenly.

His gaze sharpened. Not surprised. Annoyed.

“You shouldn’t be touching things that don’t belong to you.”

“I wasn’t,” I said. “I was observing.”

He stepped closer.

The space between us tightened. I became aware of details I didn’t need to be aware of. The way his attention didn’t wander. The way his weight was balanced. The faint scent of freshly laundered clothes and something darker beneath it.

“Observation is a privilege,” he said.

I smiled and took a step towards him.

He was taller. By a lot. It didn’t matter. I didn’t tilt my head back. Didn’t back down. I let him feel the absence of my fear and that his intimidation did not faze me.

“So is assuming,” I said.

The silence stretched. Heavy. Coiled. Charged.

We both stood there, staring at each other, but before either of us could test that edge, another presence entered the space.

Director Jeremy Sato approached from the opposite corridor, hands clasped behind his back, expression calm in the way only men with real authority ever managed.

“Alexis Harper,” he said, extending his hand. “Welcome.”

I stepped away from this odious man and took Director Sato’s hand. His grip was steady. Strong.

“It’s a pleasure, Director,” I said.

“Jeremy, please,” he corrected mildly.

He handed me my credentials and opened the door. “Come on. You should meet the rest of the team.”

I walked through the threshold without looking back. I didn’t need to. Whoever this man was, I could feel his attention on my spine.

The operations room stripped away any lingering quiet. Screens. Consoles. Men who looked up the second I stepped into their space.

The room shifted. Not aggressively, but not warm either. Like the soldiers they are, they were assessing me. As they should. That’s exactly what I was doing.

I let my posture soften. Hands clasped loosely behind my back. My smile was warm but not inviting. Present without offering anything unnecessary.

“Gentlemen,” Sato said, “this is Alexis Harper. Linguistics. Counterintelligence. Covert Ops.”

Marcus moved first. Big. Solid. Grinning as if he had already decided he liked me.

Evan followed with restless energy and an instant smile.

Luke’s calm presence anchored the room without effort.

Jonah didn’t move. I met his gaze and waited. I let him do things on his own terms. He then approached and extended his hand. “Jonah.”

I took it gently. Didn’t squeeze. Didn’t rush. I let him decide when to release the handshake.

I made sure that we had eye contact, and I gave him my warmest smile. Reserved only for babies and dogs. “Alexis. Nice to meet you.”

Jonah looked at me and snatched his hand back. But not harshly, gently. And went back to his corner.

“And I’m sure you’ve met our fearless leader, Reid,” Marcus said, standing beside Reid, clapping his back.

“Actually,” I said, raising an eyebrow. “I haven’t had the pleasure. I thought he was just some asshole who waits in hallways like a creep.”

The room erupted in “oooohs” and “aahhhs.”

Director Sato then cleared his throat, and everyone in the room stifled their laughter and directed their attention to him.

By the time he explained why I was here, the room had warmed up to me. Only one person hadn’t moved.

Reid stood a few steps back, posture stiff, watching me like I was a problem he hadn’t decided how to solve.

“Calder will be your team lead,” Sato added.

I turned toward him. His stare didn’t break. His expression was stoic and cold.

I took a deep breath and sighed silently. “Got it,” I said lightly. “Lucky me.”

Something flickered across his face but was gone as quickly as it arrived.

Sato gestured toward the residential wing. “Let’s get you settled.”

I waved at the team, but only Evan waved back. Everyone else gave me the nod and a smile, then went about their work.

My room was exactly what I expected. Sparse. Functional. Bare.

When the door closed behind me, the smile slid off my face like a discarded mask.

I leaned back against the door and let my thumb brush once across my palm.

Slow. Repetitive. Calming.

Then I stopped it.

The team liked me. Well, except for Reid.

And the unsettling truth lay low in my chest, warm but unwelcome:

I didn’t want his approval. I didn’t need it.

But I wanted to see what would happen if I stopped holding my ground.