Ego (Sigma International Security #2)

Prologue Ego

Sigma International Security, Volkov Towers, Manhattan Office

I re-read the assignment Kane handed me for the third time in the last thirty seconds, and I swear I hear roll call sounding off inside my head.

This is a fucking joke.

I’m sitting in the corner of Noel Kane’s brand-spanking-new office—fucker was just promoted to official head of our little team at Sigma International Security.

My arms are crossed over my chest.

My jaw is locked tight.

Outside the floor to ceiling window, New York is buried under a foot of snow and counting.

Inside, it’s worse—because I’m two seconds from exploding.

“Okay, I read the file,” I mutter. “Three times.”

Noel doesn’t look up from his tablet.

Calm.

Annoyingly calm.

“Then you know the details.”

“Oh, I know the details. Teacher. Female. Five-foot-four. Lives and works in Verona, New Jersey. Teaches kindergarten. The biggest threats in her world are glitter and untied shoelaces.”

Now he lifts his eyes.

“And a very real security breach.”

I lean forward, resting my elbows on my knees.

“You’re assigning me—me—to Romper Room?”

“It’s not a babysitting gig.”

“Sure as hell looks like one.”

Noel sighs. The kind of sigh a man gives when he’s two seconds from reminding me, he’s the boss.

“Ego—”

“Theodore,” I counter.

“No one calls you that but your mother.”

I grunt.

He’s not wrong. But still.

Noel sets the tablet down, finally giving me his full attention.

“You want to finally lead your own op? This is your chance. We got a contract. We fulfill it. You’re the point man.”

“For what? Coloring time and snack duty?”

“For whatever comes,” he says. “We’re not taking any chances.

Sabrina Rosetto filed a report at her local precinct last week.

Someone tried to follow her home from school.

Two days later, someone broke into her classroom after hours.

Her desk was ransacked, papers scattered. Nothing stolen. No forced entry.”

I raise a brow. “Cops do anything? And so what? Lots of women are hunted by creeps—that doesn’t make them Sigma clients!”

“Cops wrote it off as a prank. We’re not. And the reason she’s a Sigma client? She happens to be Josef Aziz’s grandkids’ favorite teacher.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh. Ready to work now?” Noel asks, bushy fucking eyebrows raised.

“Yeah. I’m ready. So, you think there’s more to it?”

“I know there is,” Noel says, standing. “I did some digging, and it seems her brother’s got ties to a case we’ve been tracking for months. A web of off-books tech contracts, data leaks, and old ghosts we haven’t chased down yet.”

“Now you’re talking my language,” I say, straightening.

“She doesn’t know any of it,” he adds. “As far as Miss Rosetto’s concerned, she’s just a teacher who’s being protected because she’s loved by some very important children. Someone spooked her. Now we’re gonna spook them. Got it?”

“Yeah, but Kane, what am I supposed to do? Show up to class in my fatigues with my Glock in its holster? Play bodyguard to the sandbox?”

“No, asshat. You’re supposed to keep her safe. And keep your shit together, Ego.”

I clench my jaw.

My pulse is already ticking.

Why? Because this isn’t the mission I trained for.

This isn’t why I spent six years in the field chasing down arms dealers, smugglers—the kind of men who make boogeymen check under their beds.

I didn’t sign up to play crossing guard.

But then again, Sigma doesn’t waste resources. If Noel says it’s real, it’s real.

And like it or not, I’ll meet her today.

I flip open the file again. Catch a glimpse of her picture.

Sabrina Rosetto.

Kindergarten teacher.

Civilian. Civilized.

Dark hair. Light eyes. Big tits.

She’s soft.

And pretty.

Fuck.

“Fine,” I bite out. “But if this turns into finger painting, I’m out.”

Noel smirks.

“Yeah, yeah. Try not to scare the children.”