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CHAPTER TEN: Too late... I'm already in.

HOPEI wasn't stupid—I knew Bob didn’t like me. The way he brushed past me in the hallway like I was some stray hair on his shirt told me all I needed to know. But it didn’t matter. Ace had given me a job, and whether he was trying to test me or trap me, I wasn’t going to fail.The protester case file was a mess. Clara had left behind notes and charts, all organized in her uptight, clinical style. I tried contacting her once—just to be polite—but she had barely concealed her irritation. I got the message.Instead of calling her again, I did what my gut told me to.I went straight to Ace.Every. Single. Time.At first, he was clearly irritated.“You have Bob and Clara for a reason,” he said without looking up from his laptop the first time I barged into his office with a question.“Clara made it clear she’s too busy,” I replied calmly, dropping the file on his desk. “And Bob? I don’t think he’d mind watching me fall flat on my face.”That made him pause. His lips curved faintly before

CHAPTER ELEVEN: was it worth it?

HOPEI didn’t remember when he pulled away—only that my lips still tingled from his kiss.Ace’s hands lingered on my waist for a moment longer, his eyes unreadable and dark as ever. Then, just like that, he took a single step back, dragging the air out of my lungs with him.“We’ll pretend that didn’t happen,” he said.His voice was clipped. Cold. Like he hadn’t just kissed me like I was the only thing keeping him alive.“Oh,” I managed, swallowing the ball of emotion threatening to rise.It was the right thing. We were playing with fire, and we both knew it. But still… his tone felt like ice.He put his hand in his pocket and pulled out a sleek black phone—new, slim, untraceable. He tossed it to me.“You’re my assistant now. Use that. Your schedule’s already been loaded in. You'll have access to specific rooms, but only the ones you need. Don’t overstep. Understood?"I nodded, gripping the phone tighter than I should. “Yes… Ace.”His name tasted different now.He gave a quick nod, alre

CHAPTER TWELVE: …let the sharks smell blood.

ACEThere was a reason I pushed her away after the kiss.She tasted like fire and something soft I couldn’t name—but if I gave in, even for a second, I’d ruin everything. I couldn’t afford to like her this much. Not with who I am. Not with what I do. Not with how many people are watching.Hope wasn’t just a girl in my space anymore. She was inside my life—inside me—and that made her the perfect target. My enemies would use her, break her, bleed her dry just to get to me.And I wouldn’t be able to stop them if I was too blinded to see it coming.So yeah, I pushed her away. I told her we’d pretend the kiss didn’t happen. But I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. Her lips. Her breath hitching. The way she looked at me like she didn’t know whether to punch me or pull me back in.I hated how much I wanted both.I leaned back in my office chair, fingers steepled beneath my chin. A quiet knock pulled me from my thoughts.Bob walked in without waiting.“She hasn’t acted on Evan,” he

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

HOPEThe morning sun crept lazily into my room as I zipped the last corner of my suitcase shut. The navy-blue dress Bee helped me pick was packed away neatly, waiting for its debut. For now, I wore something... safer—but definitely suggestive.A black crop sweater that showed just a hint of toned stomach. High-waisted jeans that hugged my curves too well. Comfortable white sneakers. Hair up in a claw clip, just messy enough to say “I didn’t try hard” when I very much did. A spritz of light floral perfume and I was ready.Not to impress Ace, of course.Just... representing the enterprise. Professionally.Okay, maybe a little to impress Ace.A few minutes later, one of his men knocked and escorted me down to the waiting black SUV that drove us straight to the Mason's private airport. The moment I stepped out and saw the sleek jet glinting in the early light, reality settled in.This was my life now. Mafia-linked charity gala in another city. Designer gowns. Secret agendas. And Ace freak

CHAPTER FOURTEEN: just territorial.

ACEThe hotel was lavish—five stars and all that jazz—but I barely noticed the gold chandeliers or the overpriced scent wafting through the corridors. My mind was wired tight with the coming gala. Not the charity part of it, of course. That was just fluff for the press. What really mattered were the faces behind the champagne flutes—the ones who ran underground networks with the elegance of politicians and the ruthlessness of warlords.Hope’s suite was directly across from mine.Of course, it was my idea. Not close enough to be suspicious. Not far enough to lose track of her.She disappeared into the room without a word, suitcase rolling behind her, and I didn’t knock. Not yet.Thirty minutes later, I made the call for her to be taken to a private styling suite downtown—somewhere discreet but equipped enough to transform her into the kind of woman this world admired and secretly feared.And maybe I wanted to see what she looked like when she wasn’t trying to blend into shadows.I got

CHAPTER FIFTEEN: my Hope

HOPEThe clinking of silverware and soft classical music filled the extravagant dining hall. Crystal chandeliers sparkled above us like frozen fire. Every table was its own universe of whispered power plays and fake laughter.I sat beside Ace, trying to blend in. Trying to remember that I was playing a role—a carefully scripted character who didn’t have real feelings for the man beside her. Too bad my body never got the memo.Dinner had barely started when trouble arrived.He walked in like he owned the damn floor. Broad shoulders, a scar splitting one brow, and the kind of smirk that promised danger for breakfast and disaster for dessert.“Ace,” he called out smoothly as he approached our table. “Didn’t think you’d actually bring a date. She’s a knockout.”Ace’s jaw clenched, but he kept his tone even. “Salvatore. Thought they banned you from anything with table manners.”“Temporarily,” the man chuckled. “But I clean up well, don’t I

CHAPTER SIXTEEN: consequences be damned.

HOPEI should’ve been furious. Embarrassed. Terrified even.Instead, all I could feel was a wicked thrill humming through me.Ace had punched a mafia heir in the middle of a gala—because of me. Not business. Not strategy. Me.It wasn’t smart. It wasn’t safe. But God, it made something dangerous in me flutter.He was possessive.And I liked it.Even now, in the quiet of his suite, as the door clicked shut behind us, I could still feel the raw edge of his temper vibrating through the air. He hadn’t said a word since we left the gala, but his jaw was clenched, and his eyes burned like fire.I should’ve been thinking about the Bureau. About Evans. About the intel I’d just gathered from the women lounging around in designer gowns and bloodstained secrets. I’d worked quickly, slipping into conversations like a ghost, planting harmless questions here and there—gathering just enough to put names to whispers.But then Sa

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN: my name

HOPEEverything had changed.Not just the way he looked at me—softer now, more lingering. Or the way his touch wasn’t always fire and restraint, but warmth. Real.It was everything. The silence. The eye contact. The way he stood just a little closer than before.Ace Mason, the man who didn’t bend for anyone, loosened up around me. He smirked more. Joked, even. Touched me just because.It would be delusional to think I hadn’t trapped him. And yet... the dangerous part? I felt trapped too.Not by him. But by whatever this was—between us. I kept reminding myself why I was here. What I was supposed to be doing. But each time he pulled me into his arms, whispered my name like a secret only he was allowed to keep, it got harder to remember.We stayed back for a few extra days after the gala. Days we spent getting lost in hotel sheets and between kisses. It was reckless, selfish—and addictive.By the time we landed back home, I had to

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN: YOU'VE GONE ROGUE.

ACEThe tension between the Giordanos and the Masons could slice through steel.After the FBI seized one of their warehouses, they’d been on a warpath, accusing everyone except themselves for the fallout. They’d been sloppy—greedy even. That was their mistake. But when pride and power are on the line, logic doesn’t stand a chance.Still, they were barking at the wrong gate.And then Enzo Giordano showed up. Not in some dimly lit alley or backroom club where secrets and blood deals were usually exchanged.No.He showed up at Mason Enterprise. My office.I was reviewing reports when the elevator chimed, and the air changed. The kind of change that made even the air itself uncomfortable. My door opened without a knock, and there he was.Enzo Giordano. Tall, tailored, and reeking of entitlement and misplaced rage.“Quite the risky move,” I muttered, leaning back in my seat and fol

CHAPTER NINETHEEN: …the one person who makes him soft.

HOPEI knocked lightly on Ace’s office door, half-hoping he wouldn’t answer. When no voice responded from within, I turned the knob and peeked in.Empty.Good. I whispered to myself before walking into the room completely.I had brought a stack of reports that needed his signature, but truth be told, that wasn’t the only reason I came. My handler’s warnings echoed in my mind like an alarm clock I couldn’t hit snooze on anymore.Get something on him. Get proof. Something that justifies your existence in this mission.And here I was. In his office. Alone.I stepped inside slowly, shutting the door behind me. The air smelled like cedarwood and something distinctly Ace. Power. Discipline. Secrets.The documents I was supposed to drop off sat in my hand, but my eyes weren’t on them.They were on the drawers.No cameras. No assistant. No watchful Ace.My heart beat faster as I inched toward his desk. Just a quick look. A harmless peek. I told myself it was part of the mission. That it was ju

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