CHAPTER 1 #2
Malik stands near the center of the room, dark hair loosely tied at his collar, hazel eyes tracking everything without appearing to.
He’s wearing a custom suit in deep navy, but he forewent the tie, same as me.
He earned the title of Director both in service to Jameson and with almost losing his life as a prisoner of war.
Five months chained in a desert hole, and when he came back, he didn’t ask for sympathy.
He asked for work. And Kynan gave it to him—not as charity, but as trust.
Anna, Malik’s wife, is at his side, greeting guests with her sunny disposition.
It says a lot as her past is just as traumatic as his.
Her first husband was an agent with Jameson and died in the line of fire.
She was Kynan’s secretary at the time Malik was rescued, and they eventually found their way into each other’s hearts.
He told me once that they healed each other and that always sat with me…
that a love could be that strong as to fill missing pieces within you.
Tonight, Anna doesn’t look like a widow but rather like a woman who chose to build again.
Josie has cornered a cluster of potential clients at one of the long work tables in the center of the lobby. A digital display cycles through layered maps as she demonstrates our cyber prowess, which, honestly, is probably more impressive than the muscle of the field agents.
“What you’re looking at isn’t raw chatter,” she’s saying. “It’s pattern convergence. We track anomalies across financial transactions, encrypted messaging spikes, supply chain irregularities. Individually, they mean nothing. Together, they predict instability.”
One of the men folds his arms, his expression skeptical. “You’re saying you can forecast an attack?”
“We can forecast probabilities. The model flagged a seventy-two percent likelihood of coordinated unrest tied to a shell corporation funding extremist logistics.”
The men all lean forward, completely hooked now. They’ve been dazzled by Josie but that’s not hard. I’ve seen her work. It’s surgical—a thousand data points and she finds the one thread that unravels everything. If Malik runs the blade, Josie sharpens it.
Reid drifts past me with a low whistle. “Remind me not to piss her off. I don’t ever want her digging into my past.”
“You don’t have enough secrets for that to matter.”
He grins and moves on, and I decide to hit the buffet. The line snakes past the reclaimed timber columns and I step in behind a broad set of shoulders in the dark navy of the Seattle Police Department dress uniform.
“Are you here for the free food or just to rub elbows with real men?” I murmur low.
Brady Frost doesn’t turn around, but I see the corner of his mouth lift into a smirk. “Don’t flatter yourself. I’m here for optics.”
Brady’s been embedded in the Seattle PD for two months, working to expose a corruption ring from the inside.
The head of their internal affairs brought us on to lead the investigation so that it would remain impartial.
Brady was a natural choice for the job. He’s a former US Marshal and has nerves of steel.
We generated an airtight new identity complete with a fake background that included working with the New York PD, but with a “blemished” record of insubordination and a few infractions.
It was pure bait and the corrupt cops drew Brady in right away.
“How’s life treating you?” I ask.
“Sucks,” he mutters. “Can’t wait for this shit to be done.”
From a distance it looks like idle small talk between a private security operator and a city cop.
Across the room, near the glass partitions, the mayor stands with the police chief and two men I don’t recognize—tailored suits and government posture, though not city government.
Brady’s gaze drifts there briefly, not long enough to draw attention.
He adjusts his cuffs as one of the assistant chiefs glances our way.
“Fitting in?” I ask quietly.
“Well enough. They think I’m ambitious.”
“That a stretch?”
He snorts and starts to respond, but he sees someone approaching me from behind and his eyes ice over.
I turn to find Caroline Prescott cutting through the crowd toward us.
She’s in a royal blue dress that shows off all her curves, the color matching her eyes.
She’s wearing her long black hair loose, which we rarely see with the female agents who always have it tied up and out of the way when we’re training.
She navigates with the confidence that comes from being inherently secure with herself.
Brady stiffens the closer she gets and I bet Caroline notices it too. These two seemed to have taken an instant dislike to each other since the day Caroline transferred from Vegas to Seattle. Whenever they’re in the same room, they never seem to miss an opportunity to snipe at each other.
“What’s up, Cole?” she says, offering her fist for a bump.
“Caro,” I drawl, eyeing her appreciatively. “You’re going to have every bachelor in this building falling at your feet.”
Brady makes a dismissive scoff and Caroline’s eyes snap to him, brutally chilly.
She glares at him a moment and then turns her regard back to me. “You clean up well.”
“You say that every time I dress up.”
Caroline snorts. “Because every time it surprises me.” She grins and reaches for a champagne flute off a passing waiter’s tray. “How’s the shoulder? Reid told me you took a hit in the training run this morning.”
“Reid needs a smaller mouth,” I mutter.
“Reid needs a lot of things,” she agrees cheerfully, and then nods toward the spiral staircase that ascends to the top floor. “A few of the guys are up there playing pool. Come up and I’ll take your money.”
“Probably worth the trip,” I say, looking around at all the suits. I hate any sort of hobnobbing.
“Must be nice,” Brady says, pleasant as a blade, his eyes pinned on Caroline, “having the kind of job where playing pool is a work event.”
Caroline turns then, slow and unhurried, like she’s just now remembering he exists, but in truth, I can tell she was waiting for this. “I’m sorry?”
“Just saying.” He shrugs nonchalantly. “Some of us are actually working tonight.”
“Mmm. And some of us are capable of doing both.”
“That what you call it?”
Caroline tilts her head slightly. “Your cover still intact?”
“Last I checked.” Brady doesn’t look at her when he says it, scanning the room the way cops do when they’re pretending not to be cops.
“That’s reassuring,” she replies so dryly, the dew point just changed.
His posture shifts, a move that’s barely perceptible. “Why? Worried about me?”
“Not particularly.” She takes a sip of her champagne, her blue eyes sparkling with fight.
“Good.” His voice drops enough that it doesn’t carry. “I’d hate to think you were getting attached.”
“Don’t flatter yourself,” she scoffs.
“Wouldn’t dream of it because your ego is already taking up too much room.”
Her eyes narrow. “Careful, Brady. Your insecurity is showing.”
“My insecurity.” He lets out a short laugh. “That’s rich coming from someone who has to have the last word in every conversation.”
“I don’t have to,” she says sweetly, batting her eyelashes. “I just always do.”
I bite my tongue because I am a professional and professionals do not laugh at their colleagues.
Brady’s jaw tightens. He straightens his cuffs and turns back toward the room without another word. Not a retreat—Brady doesn’t retreat—but close.
Caroline watches him go with the particular expression of a woman who fully intends on enjoying her small win. She takes a sip of champagne.
“You two are exhausting,” I tell her.
“He started it,” she says serenely and moves away, the line parting slightly around her. Brady watches her go for a fraction of a second before muttering, “She’s a scourge.”
“That so?”
“Pain in my ass.” His eyes focus across the room and then he pastes on a pleasant smile. “Christ,” he says low and with his mouth barely moving. “Boss is waving me over for introductions. I hate this shit.”
“Stay safe, my friend,” I murmur.
He gives me a nod. “You too.”
And just like that, he’s Officer Frost again. Another uniform in a room full of power. Only a handful of us know he’s playing a much longer game.
Another server passes with champagne and I take one since it only seems right. Nights like this are all about the polish and glitz of what we do, and I don’t particularly like it. But I do like working here very much so I’ll suck it up.