Malia smoothed down her tight black dress as she stepped off the elevator onto the casino floor. Her Jimmy Choo heels clicked against the tile as she strode through the maze of Vegas-style slot machines and dealers shuffling out cards like magicians. While most of the casinos in Laos were far different than their US counterparts, Yaza had a taste for the Vegas flair and incorporated it into his vision.

Malia approached the concierge. “Malia Chimin to see Mr. Yaza, per his request.”

One of the hardest parts of being undercover was remembering to answer to a fake name. That was part of the reason she used her real first name, but made sure to change the surname from Danpae to Chimin.

The concierge smirked as he picked up the phone and pushed a button. “Tell Mr. Yaza his latest piece of ass is here.”

Malia forced back an eyeroll and the urge to punch the smirk off the asshole’s face. But he wasn’t wrong. Most of the women called up to be his eye candy ended up also being his whore. She wasn’t going to let it get that far before she would do what she came there to do.

“Right this way,” the concierge said, fanning his arm to a door behind the counter.

The man pushed a rolling cart away from the wall in the stock room, revealing a keypad. He punched in a sequence of numbers and the wall slid open to a hallway. Dim yellow lights did little to ease her stomach in the narrow passage. She touched the inside of her thigh, running her finger along the gun strapped to her skin. Would she really be able to go through with it when the time came? She’d shot several bad guys over the years, but always in return fire and never taking their life. Only enough to take them down and get them into custody. And she’d never been on an op solo.

Her mind wanted Yaza’s blood spilled. Her heart, though, was not of a killer.

She followed the concierge through the tunnel until they reached a door guarded by two of Yaza’s henchmen in suits.

“Ms. Chimin to see Mr. Yaza,” he spoke to the guards.

They nodded and the one on the left opened the door. Air wedged in the back of her throat as she stepped into the dark cherrywood lined office of Yaza himself. He sat no more than fifty feet in front of her behind a regal desk, relaxed and smiling as they locked eyes. She was so focused on Yaza she failed to see the ten men surrounding her in the room. She was stupid to think they’d be alone.

“Ms. Chimin, come in.” He stood and fanned his arm to a wing-backed chair in front of his desk.

Malia slid against the burgundy-leather as she took a seat and slung one leg over the other, purposely bouncing her foot to distract the other men in the room. She knew how to work her assets to her advantage.

“You’re late,” Yaza said as he sat back down.

“My apologies. I ran into some trouble getting here from Bangkok.” Malia cleared her throat, wondering if any of his security team reported her to him when she got captured. Surely she was just in the wrong place at the wrong time on the train and they thought she was a spoil of their plunder. Someone they could have their way with then discard after they all had their jollies. They wouldn’t want to out themselves to their boss about losing a captive and risk termination, in all senses of the word.

He nodded and shuffled some papers on his desk before returning his focus on her eyes. “So I’ve been told.” Yaza slid a picture across the desk. His intimidating stare burned her gut with worry as she glanced at the picture of her parents, on their knees with hands tied behind their backs while two of Yaza’s men pressed guns to their foreheads. Malia knew this picture well. It was seared into her memory the moment she went through it twenty-three years ago. “Now, tell me, Ms. Chimin, or may I call you Malia? I can call your Malia, right, as we’ll be working together very, very closely. These were your parents, were they not?”

Malia sat back in the chair and folded her hands across her lap, inching her fingers ever so slowly to the edge of her dress in hopes of reaching her gun without notice. “You are mistaken, sir. I don’t recognize the people in that photo.”

A rough chuckle rumbled in his chest as he sat back with a smirk. “So, you’re telling me that my highly paid, highly accurate security team is lying to me when they said you’re not actually an employee of my hotel chain, but an undercover agent for the United States government? Let’s see here”—he lowered his glasses to the end of his nose as he read a piece of paper and nodded with smile—“I murdered your parents without cause and now you’ve joined the CIA for retribution.”

Malia grit her teeth. Was there a mole in the agency who sold her file to him? Or was his security team really that good that they could hack the Langley database?

“Your intelligence team seems to lack intelligence. I told you before, those aren’t my parents and even if they were, I’m certainly not stupid enough to go against the great Thet Yaza alone.” She scooted herself to the edge of her seat and leaned forward, placing one hand on the desk in front of her, and the other slipping under her dress until her fingers curled around the grip of her gun.

Yaza stood and Malia ripped the gun from under her dress, launching herself out of the chair as she pointed it at his head.

A deviant smile curled along his lips. “You are a fury. I do like that in a woman. But I suggest you put the gun down. If you fire at me, I have ten men with their guns pointed at you in return.”

“Doesn’t matter. As long as you’re dead, it’ll be worth it.” Malia choked back tears. She swore she would remain calm and cool-headed. But in the heat of the moment, seeing the picture of her parents on their knees, it undid her in ways none of her CIA training prepared her for.

“That’s where I think you’re wrong. You’re still that scared five-year-old girl unable to save her parents. You won’t pull the trigger because you’re not a killer.”

“How can you be so sure? Wouldn’t you want to kill the man who killed your parents?”

He smiled with a nod. “I did. Then I took over his empire.”

Malia choked on a cough.

Yaza walked around his desk and sat on the arm of the wing-backed chair Malia had been in moments ago. “You see, I had what it takes to put emotions aside for the bigger picture. That is why my reach is far and wide. I do what I must to maintain my power. If I lose my power, I become the scared little boy watching my parents killed before me. I swore to myself, and to them, I would never be too scared to do whatever was necessary to be the one with the power—the power of life. You, Malia, do not have the same drive, the same passion. What you really want and what you think you want are two different things.”

“You’re right.” Malia lowered her gun and tossed it to the floor. “My shot may not end your life, but it doesn’t mean it won’t hurt like a bitch.” She slammed the palm of her hand against his nose, breaking it. He slid off the chair and hit the floor with his back, blood drenching his face.

His security team rushed her. Adrenaline fed her limbs as she kicked and punched not caring who she hit or where. The room turned to a blur around her before several arms encased her and her wobbly legs gave out, dropping her to the floor. Four of the men lay on the ground beside her bleeding or clutching some part of their bodies. At least she managed to take down some of them before the rest subdued her.

“I want her alive,” Yaza called out from the floor. “And someone get me a fucking towel!”

* * *

Kamon walked to his hotel room door to find it cracked open. He looked down either end of the hall and there was no sign of a cleaning crew on his floor. Reaching into the back of his jeans, he eased his gun out and inched the door open wider.

He scanned the room, his gun ahead of him in his outstretched arms.

“You really need better taste in takeout. This is crap,” Jayla said, shoving the last of his leftovers into her mouth.

“What the fuck, Jayla?” Kamon’s heart pounded in his ears as he reset the safety on his gun and put it back in his pants. “I could have fucking shot you!”

“No you wouldn’t. You’re a crack-shot sniper, Shadow. You don’t have an itchy trigger-finger. You assess first, then take your shot. Because you never miss, you make the time. Your brain knows this. Your mouth clearly doesn’t.” Jayla hopped off the barstool in the kitchenette.

Kamon rolled his eyes. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“I need your help. I called Tex to look into something for me and he told me to meet you here at your hotel and he’d call me back. So here I am.” She plunked down on the sofa in the mini living area off the kitchenette.

Kamon arched a brow. “Why would he tell you to meet me? What do I have to do with whatever you needed him for?”

“Well, let’s call him and find out. I’m on an assignment with a newer agent. I guess I’m kind of like her handler on this gig. But something didn’t add up with the mission and her backstory. So I wanted Tex to see if he could dig into it for me, because you know how open the CIA is.” Jayla air-quoted the word open and rolled her eyes.

His heart lurched to his throat. He had Tex gathering info on Malia for him and he wondered if they could somehow be connected. “He’s looking into something for me as well. I have a feeling I’m not going to like what he’s got to say.”

Taking a deep breath, Kamon dialed up Tex and put him on speaker-phone.

“Is Jayla with you?” Tex asked by way of greeting.

“Right here, big guy, lay it on us!” Jayla said.

“You both had me look into Malia Danpae,” Tex said and Jayla and Kamon looked at each other in surprise.

“Oh shit, you’re the SEAL?” Jayla asked, blinking in surprise. “You’re real name is Kamon?”

Kamon quirked a brow. “You don’t know my name by now?”

Jayla snorted. “I only know you as Shadow. I didn’t order a docket of info on all of Hound’s teammates. But maybe I should...” She tapped a finger to her lip as she narrowed her eyes.

Tex cleared his throat to regain their attention. “Here’s what I’ve been able to find out. She told you the truth, that her parents were killed by a Thai drug lord when she was five. Then a couple from California adopted her. She joined the CIA in hopes of a chance at taking down the man who killed her parents.”

“Wait, she’s CIA?” Kamon burst out. “Why didn’t she just tell me? I told her I was a SEAL. She knew she could trust me!”

“She’s deep undercover, Shadow,” Jayla replied. “She probably didn’t tell you because she didn’t want you getting involved. I still can’t believe you’re the hot guy she met on the plane.”

Kamon quirked a brow with a smirk at the words hot guy. “We did meet on the plane here, yes. So, she told you about me?”

Jayla laughed. “She may have mentioned you a time or two. She was pretty conflicted on what to do about you. She said you asked her out but she was too close to finally getting to Yaza that she couldn’t blow her cover by taking any chances.”

Nausea spiraled in his stomach. “Yaza? She’s trying to take down Yaza?”

“Here’s where it gets tricky,” Tex broke into their conversation. “She’s actually Yaza’s biological daughter.”

Both Kamon and Jayla shouted together, “What?”

“Apparently Yaza got a woman pregnant, one of his concubines named Achara Inpi. She didn’t want Yaza to know and tried to escape, but he found her and had her beaten for trying to leave. He thought she had a miscarriage as a result. An undercover agent had been working a drug-trafficking assignment and got to the woman, convinced her to turn the child over to them for safe keeping and they would hide her from Yaza in exchange for the Achara providing inside information to take down Yaza. The people Yaza ended up killing were actually contracted by the CIA to be her foster parents.”

“Whoa,” Jayla said in a gasp. “This is straight-up Maury Povich shit right here.”

Kamon quirked a brow. “So, Yaza doesn’t know he even has a child, let alone it’s Malia. But how then did she witness him killing who she thought was her parents?”

“They had brought Malia to visit her biological mother, as it was one of the conditions that Achara set during the original arrangement. She got to see Malia at least once a year. They told Malia she was an aunt. Yaza found out through his security team that there was someone on the inside feeding information to the CIA. They suspected Achara after she was followed on the last visitation with Malia. Yaza took them by surprise and murdered the foster parents. Achara escaped and was never heard from again. But the original agent who made the deal with the Achara got Malia out of the country safely and adopted by a couple in the States.” Tex cleared his throat. “And this is the part that I hate the worst...”

“There’s more?” Kamon asked in disbelief.

“They’ve been grooming her all her life to come back and be a pawn to be used to take down Yaza. The CIA knew they’d have a powerful weapon and bargaining chip in Malia one day. They’ve spent her entire life training her for this mission, using her against her own father and she doesn’t even know it,” Tex said.

“We’ve got to get her out of there,” Jayla said. “The CIA is a bunch of assholes. I should know, I work for them.”

Kamon nodded. “I agree, we need to get her out. But I’m going to need help.”

“You’ve got me,” Jayla said.

“I already called your SEAL team,” Tex interjected. “They’re in-flight and should arrive in about an hour.”

“Oh, my Hound!” Jayla clapped like a giddy school-girl.

Kamon shook his head with a laugh. “And he told me to make sure if I saw you to keep you safe.”

Jayla punched her hands to her hips. “He did? He knows better than that.”

“He loves you. Can’t fault him for that.” Kamon shrugged. “I kind of know how he feels now. Just thinking about Malia being on that mission makes me want to punch something then throw up, and I’ve only known her for forty-eight hours. Just because he worries about you doesn’t mean he doesn’t believe in you.”

Jayla nodded. “Yeah, it’s nice knowing there’s someone out there who cares if you come back alive. I’m not used to that. I mean, I’ve always had Melinda, my BFF and Mal, my cat. But that’s different. I’ve always had to rely on myself to make sure I got out of what I got into. It made me pretty self-reliant. I just don’t want him to fight my battles for me, but to have my back if I need him.”

“He does. Our whole team does. We take care of each other, and that includes our significant others. And I hope Malia knows I would do the same for her.” Kamon clutched his hands to a fist. “We need to move out, get a plan together.”

“Bring her home, Shadow,” Tex said. “If you need anything else, you know how to get a hold of me.”

Kamon hung up the call and let out the sigh pressing down his emotions. Not only did he have to rescue the girl, but he somehow had to lay the biggest news of her life on her at the same time. It would either destroy her completely or fuel her fire to kill the man she’s been after all these years. Which would probably lead to Option A anyway, completely destroying her. Yaza was the kind of man who didn’t care about family. Kamon doubted learning that Malia was his daughter would change that fact if he wanted her dead.

“You ready to go get your woman?” Jayla asked, playfully socking Kamon in the shoulder.

His woman. It sounded funny in his head, but the mere thought of Malia with some other guy sparked a fire of jealousy in his blood. He definitely wanted her to be his woman. The problem was, would Malia want him to be her man?

He thought back to their time in the cave and he knew she could take care of herself. But when faced with the high emotions of looking into the eyes of the man who killed her family, would she be able to put it aside and stick to her training? Even if they were a fake family, they were real to her. She was seeking justice, revenge, retribution … closure. Just like she had once told him, sometimes the answers we seek were better left uncovered.

Kamon sought his own closure. That was what this whole trip was about, under the guise of granting his mother’s last wish to be set free with her husband. He craved that closure, the answers to the questions he’d had his whole life. Now that he had them, they opened up a whole other world of questions, a whole new quest he, too, had to undertake. He wanted the same man dead as Malia, the man who ripped both their families apart.

While Kamon couldn’t bring her parents back, or change the fact that Yaza was her real father, nor could Malia bring back Kamon’s, but maybe together they could start a new chapter, a new life, a new family and finally get the happily ever after they both deserved.