Evie

“You’re a go.” I barely blinked at the confirmation of the kill order when it came through my ear piece. It wasn’t a surprise, even though my target was technically a civilian. Leaving Heron alive was a risk my boss wasn’t willing to take, which I understood, since he was privy to sensitive information after having worked with the agency for five years. The man had come to my country for protection and found himself between a rock and a hard place because he had been in the unlucky position of being of strategic use to our government—but that didn’t excuse his decision for turning traitor. He’d agreed to be pulled into this kill or be killed world, the same as I had.

Eight years ago, I’d never expected to find myself where I was today, flat on my belly on the roof of an office building, fifteen hundred yards away from the Rafaello hotel in Rome, with my 338 Lapua Magnum aimed at the window of my target’s room. I’d resisted the CIA’s attempts to recruit me out of college. With my hard-earned bachelor’s degree in Art History in hand, I’d planned to head straight into graduate school.

My goal had been to become a curator at one of the top museums in the world. The Louvre, the Guggenheim, the Tate, the Met—my sights had been aimed high, but I was convinced I could accomplish anything if I worked hard enough. It was a mindset my father had instilled in me, and in the blink of an eye, the veil was torn away from my innocent eyes when he never arrived at my graduation. For as long as I could remember, it had been him and me versus the world—right up until an old enemy from his days serving as a Navy SEAL rose up from the ashes of his past to murder him in cold blood.

When the agency recruiter came knocking on my door the next day, with a confidential dossier on the asshole who’d taken my dad away from me, I’d signed on the dotted line. No questions asked. To avenge his death, I sold my soul to the devil and I’d never looked back. I used the skills my dad and his SEAL buddies had taught me to hunt down the man responsible for his death. All those years of shooting lessons, hunting trips and obstacle courses were put to good use. I’d earned numerous marksmanship awards over the years, but I’d never aimed a gun at a human being until that day. It was my first kill, but nowhere close to my last. I’d exceeded my recruiter’s abilities and was quickly moved to a division running missions so dark, we didn’t even have a name. But they put my years of martial arts and weapons training to good use, honing me until I became the ultimate weapon. Scarlett, the assassin with more kills to her name than anyone else in the agency, although there was no official record of my body count.

Tonight, I was going to add another to my tally. It hadn’t taken me long to run my target to ground. I’d spent the last three days observing him, studying all of his behaviors and looking for any sign he’d made contact with anyone else who could pose a threat in the future. I’d caught signs that other agents were hiding in the shadows, the same as me, but nobody had approached him yet. The involvement of others this early in the game meant the clock was ticking faster than I’d originally anticipated. I’d always been good at reading people, a skill my dad had cultivated with pop quizzes about the people surrounding us at the oddest times growing up. With the added behavioral training the agency had given me, I was an expert at determining motives and weaknesses. Heron was a man running scared, and he hadn’t yet had the chance to head for the safety of another country’s agency. The degree of his anxiety indicated it was a possibility in the future, though. Hence, the kill order.

Glancing down at the watch strapped around my wrist, I noted the time. If he followed the same pattern as the last three nights, Sai would be out of the shower and dressed for his nighttime vigil any minute now. A quick look at my Kestrel 1000 wind meter confirmed the conditions hadn’t changed since I last checked. No additional adjustments needed to be made to the sight on my Vanquish .308 sniper rifle, so I lowered my head and peered through the scope. As expected, it didn’t take long for me to catch sight of my target in the window. But a split-second later, I was in for the shock of my life as I watched a man, dressed in black from head to toe, approach him from behind and press a handgun into his neck. I was determined to follow through with my mission, refusing to allow this shadowy figure to swoop in and steal my target. My finger started to press down on the trigger, but I stopped the motion when I recognized the man’s eyes. There was no mistaking who they belonged to, not when I’d seen them gaze down at me with love, heat, and humor many times over the last four years.

I lifted my finger completely away from the trigger as the implications of what I was seeing registered in my brain. Alex. The man in black, with the gun in his hand, was Alex. My husband, who was supposed to be in Brazil taking care of boring lawyer stuff. I didn’t have the chance to wrap my brain around the situation. As I watched Alex move the man away from the window, I noticed a flash of red light moving in a sweep from the left side of the window towards the two men.

Laser light.

“Shooter,” I hissed, taking aim and firing over Alex’s head, knowing he’d get the hint and take cover. My shot was followed by a volley of fire from the other shooter.

“Fucking amateur,” I muttered as I shifted my gun and took aim at him. No self-respecting sniper would use a tactical light. The laser was pointless because it draws a straight line and doesn’t account for bullet drop. Not only did it not add any accuracy to the shot, it increased the odds of tipping off your target, like he’d just tipped me off. Spotting his hidey-hole through my non-reflective scope, protecting my position from him as he scanned the area, I added to my body count by taking him out.

Swinging my rifle back towards the hotel, I swallowed the lump in my throat at the sight of shattered glass and bullet-ridden walls. There was no sign of Alex or Sai, and I could only hope my husband had made it out of the room alive and uninjured. Not only because I loved him, but so he could explain to me what the hell he’d been doing there in the first place!

With swift motions, I broke my rifle down and packed it up. As I headed for the door, I yanked the ear piece out, dropped it on the ground, and smashed it with my heel. Pulling a secured satellite phone out of my pocket, I dialed the only number stored in it and waited for my boss to answer as I raced down the stairwell. The elevator would be faster, but I’d only disabled the cameras on the stairs since it was my planned route. The last thing I needed was to run into security when I needed to get my ass out of this building and down the street.

“Status?”

“Mission incomplete,” I answered.

Stunned silence filled the line for a moment. In all my years with the agency, I’d never answered this question in the negative before. “Explain.”

“There was another shooter. An amateur, using a laser scope.”

“Were you able to eliminate the competition?”

“Yes, sir. That situation has been neutralized,” I confirmed.

“And the target?”

“Fled the scene. I’m in pursuit.” I hesitated, unsure how I wanted to explain that Heron hadn’t been alone when he’d left.

“Is there anything else I need to know, Scarlett?”

Heaving out a deep breath as I reached the ground floor and headed for the exit, I considered everything I knew about my husband. Puzzle pieces fell into place, and the most likely explanation came to mind. “Is the Special Operations Group aware of the situation with the target?”

“Yes, why?”

“I think there was an agent with the target, attempting a retrieval, when the shots were fired.”

“I’m sure they’d like to have a conversation with him. Did you recognize the agent?” he asked.

Did I recognize him as an agent? No.

Did I recognize him as the man I adored, and who I planned to have a baby with in the very near future? Yes.

“I’d hate to be put in a position where I have to disavow all knowledge of you because you’ve withheld information which might help me protect you and the mission,” he prodded, irritation clear in his tone.

“Would your access let you run facial recognition software using a photo in comparison to the agents in the Special Operations Group?”

“Of course it would,” he snarled. “Did you take the time to snap a picture of the guy when you should have been eliminating your target?”

“No, sir. The picture I want you to use is one of my husband.”

“Well, shit, girl. That would be one hell of a turn of events.” My boss’s voice softened. He was well aware of Alex’s place in my life and had advised me to have the agency run a thorough background check on him before we married. Clearly, the report I’d been provided with had excluded quite a bit of important information . “I’ll have an answer for you within ten minutes. But regardless of the answer, I need you to do your job Scarlett.”

“Understood, sir,” I bit out, disconnecting the call and hopping into the car I’d been using during this mission. Revving the engine, I exited the alley where I’d been parked and headed towards the hotel, three blocks away. As soon as I rounded the corner, I caught sight of a white van idling at the curb. My target was being shoved into the passenger seat. Ignoring the red light in front of me, I blasted the intersection to the blare of horns from angry drivers who had the right of way. The sound drew the man in black’s attention as he circled the van for the driver’s side. He turned to look over his shoulder, and I was struck anew by recognition. The way he moved, the shape of his face, his height. This man had to be Alex.

I raced through another intersection, the last one separating me from the van, while it peeled away from the curb. Tires screeching, the driver made a quick getaway with me right on his rear bumper. He tried to evade me, but I stayed glued to him, even as several police cars passed us as they raced towards the hotel.

“C’mon, c’mon, c’mon,” I chanted, unused to waiting instead of acting. But I wasn’t about to do anything that could cause the driver of the van harm if it might be Alex. Watching the vehicle weave in and out of traffic, I couldn’t help but be impressed with the driver’s skills—much the same as I had been the first time Alex had driven the Aston Martin I’d given him as a present. Although only four and a half minutes had passed, it felt like forever when my sat phone rang.

“Is he an agent?”

“Yes, Scarlett. It would appear like attracts like in the case of your marriage, because Alex is part of the Special Operations Group, where he goes by the code name Justice.”

“Justice,” I repeated, part of me wanting to laugh at the nickname which fit my husband so well, while the other side of me wanted to howl in frustration. Then it hit me, “Wait, the Justice everybody is always talking about? The one who is able to break anyone?”

“Yes.”

This was too much to comprehend all at once. Justice was a fucking legend in The Company. And apparently, I was married to him. Now what did that say about my ability to read people?

“Snap out of it, Scarlett. You still have a mission to complete, one which is at direct odds with the orders your husband has most likely received. Can I trust you to get the job done or do I need to send someone else in?”

“You can trust me, sir.” I wasn’t sure if my answer was truthful, but it was the only one I was willing to give. There was no way in hell I’d allow another assassin from my division anywhere in the vicinity of Alex. “I’ll handle it.” One way or another.

Disconnecting the call, I dropped the sat phone on the passenger seat and dug in the center console for my personal cell. With a quick swipe across the screen, it powered up.

“Call Alex.”

Following my voice command, the call went through and I waited as the line rang on the other end. Once. Twice. At the third ring, I figured he was going to let it go straight to voicemail—understandable since he was in the middle of a high speed chase on the streets of Rome with an unwilling passenger in the van. Then on the fourth ring, he picked up.

“Hey, baby. I’m kind of in the middle of something. Is everything okay?”

Oh, he was in the middle of something all right.

“Hey, stud. I was wondering if you’d like to meet up in Rome instead of Fiji. It’s been a little while since we’ve visited there.”

For pleasure at least, I wasn’t about to count any of my post-mission debriefings there. Who knew how often he’d been there for the same reason over the last four years? Now that I thought about it, if Rome was his station in Europe too, I was kind of surprised we’d never run into each other unexpectedly during a mission before now, since we’d both been out of the country simultaneously a ridiculous number of times over the years. And he didn’t know I was in the car following him, yet. I was curious to see how he’d try to talk his way out of this one. Yeah, even though I’d been lying to him just as long and in the same way, I still wanted to fuck with him a bit because I was a little hurt. It wasn’t exactly fair, but the feelings were there just the same. Who knew I could be such a girl?

“I don’t know, baby. I was looking forward to seeing you in nothing but your tiny white bikini.”

The van swerved to the right, and there was a muffled grunt in the background, followed by a growled curse from Alex.

“What was that, Alex? We must have a bad connection because I couldn’t hear you clearly.”

“Nothing, baby. Just some asshole who had something to say about you in a bikini. Don’t worry, I shut him up.”

His response was so typical Alex that it made tears well in my eyes. No matter what we’d been hiding from each other, one thing was undeniable—Alex loved me as much as I loved him. Our love would see us through this mess, I was certain of it. The authorities must have realized the seriousness of the situation because ten more police cars zoomed past us, sirens blaring wildly. As I was preparing to blurt out the news that I was in the car behind him, I heard the sound echo through the line.

“Evie?” He must have heard it too. His brain didn’t take as long as mine had to sift through the facts and reach the right conclusion. “I’m pulling over.”

His voice was a deep growl, the one usually reserved for when he was about to fuck me hard. It sent shivers down my spine, even as butterflies took flight in my belly. Sure enough, the brakes lights went on in front of me as the van slowed down and moved to the side of the road. I followed behind him, coming to a stop as he leapt from the van and stalked towards me. Dressed in combat boots, black cargo pants, a tight black shirt stretched over his chest, and with a black knit cap over his dark hair, Alex was the epitome of a dangerous man. Hot and deadly with the Beretta gripped in his right hand. The situation was fucked beyond all recognition, but he’d never looked sexier to me.