52. Olivia
Olivia
“You came.” I swallow hard, staring at my broken doorknob and mentally cursing my uncle for breaking the only thing that keeps me safe from others who may want to harm me. Even him.
Jonathan leans against my desk, looking me up and down with a blank expression.
“You’ve been ignoring messages from Dave.
You’ve been ignoring messages from everyone.
I thought you might be dead in a ditch somewhere.
” He lifts an unimpressed brow. “But it appears you’re not, Agent Seven.
It appears you’re… Well, I’m not quite sure what you’ve been doing.
” He shrugs. “From the outside looking in, it appears you’ve gone rogue.
And you know what happens to agents when they go rogue.
” His tone leaves no doubt as to what he means.
Torture.
Prison.
Death.
Veritas agents don’t survive the moment they sneak behind the organization’s back and do something unforgivable, like betraying their trust. Sometimes they’re erased from this earth before they can beg for forgiveness.
Other times, they’re hauled off to Veritas prison, where every single person we’ve taken down has landed since their arrest. The worst of the worst reside there, plotting their revenge, and aching to escape.
And seeing the person who helped jail them in their midst?
Yeah, they don’t last long. Other rogue agents are strapped to a chair and used as a human pincushion.
And the list goes on.
“I’ve been working on the case, sir. I’m not rogue. I’ve been doing exactly what you told me to do. I’ve been getting closer to JJ and using it to my advantage,” I say, lifting my chin.
There’s no way I’ll let him sniff out any sort of lies or try to break my confidence. Not that I’m lying. I have been getting closer to JJ. But it wasn’t because of the case. It’s because I want answers.
I want to know what really happened to me that night.
Not the narrative that my uncle has spun over the years.
The actual truth that seems to be hidden in the depths of his warped mind.
I want answers about my past. I want the facts about what happened, because my brain was so sure it had the right idea, and Jonathan backed it up.
Now? I’m not sure about anything.
“And your glasses? They haven’t recorded a single event for days.
Unless you count the man who picked them up off the ground before going completely dark.
Care to explain?” He tilts his head again, eyeing me for any sort of lies.
“Because again, from the outside, it seems like you misplaced your glasses after a drunken college party, and that’s quite unacceptable in my books.
” He rubs his chin, exuding a calmness that has the hairs on the back of my neck standing on end.
This is never a good sign. “You’re not here to party and play games; you’re here to investigate that fuck and his heirs.
” His fists clench at his sides, bursting with veins that bulge from beneath his flesh.
“I’m playing the part of Oli, sir,” I say softly, moving to the center of the room.
I can only hope Simon doesn’t get wind of what I’m saying.
He knows I’m not Oliver, but still, keeping the agent part of my life under wraps is important for everyone’s safety.
The fewer people who know, the better off I’ll be.
“I went to a party with my roommate and his boyfriend; they fell off my head and…”
“So, you lost them?” Jonathan asks, gritting his teeth.
“You threw away the only technology that could save your fucking skin? Are you fucking with me right now, Agent Seven?” He hisses, tossing out his arms. “You can’t be this fucking stupid and reckless!
” he shouts, his voice echoing through the room like a bomb dropping down on me.
I swallow the lump in my throat when his face reddens with anger, and his eyes glaze over with a venom I’ve never witnessed before.
This isn’t the Jonathan I grew up with. Or got to know after the fire.
This isn’t the man who saved me and brought me into Veritas.
No. The man standing before me is a stranger I’ve never witnessed before.
Desperate. Ruthless. Mean. Sure, he’s a hardass when he wants to be.
Like when he trained me before, he was hard on me, but always had a compliment to help take the sting away.
Never gentle. But never too brash that I couldn’t handle it.
Until today.
He’s dropping the doting mask and revealing the true nature of himself to me.
Or what seems to be his true self. All because I’ve fucked up a few times.
Sure, that’s not my usual tactic. I’m better than all of the mistakes I’ve made.
But it feels like this case was presented to me as a catastrophe from the start.
The information wasn’t all there from the moment he gave me my secret identity.
And my emotions? Well, those bitches have been on high alert since I stepped onto campus and had to face my past. Something no other agent has been forced to do.
In fact, it’s unheard of for my fellow agents to go back to where they came from and take down the people who hurt them.
Only me. Only this instance. Before, I didn’t question it.
I wanted to leave, yes. But actually questioning him on why I was here and thinking I could talk my way out of it?
No. Absolutely not. I’ve always been a dutiful soldier.
To my father. To Jonathan. To the Viottos.
Never questioned them. Tilted my chin in submission to their every whim to keep myself alive.
Now? I feel like my eyes are being opened and the veil is lifting from my mind.
And I don’t fucking like what I’m seeing.
I take several calming breaths and detach from the situation. If Jonathan wants to scream and yell, then he can. But I won’t take it lying down.
“I didn’t lose them, Agent Zero. I have my glasses right here.” There’s something inside me, yelling at me not to tell Jonathan the whole truth. To keep things from him. Especially when he glares at the glasses and then back at me.
“So, you got them back. Is that why you were out all night with Malic Monroe?” He cocks his head angrily.
“I didn’t send you to this fucking school to spread your legs!
I sent you here to earn your fucking revenge and take down that shitbag that started this all!
” he shouts again, this time getting louder.
I have no doubt that my roommate is getting a front-row seat to the absolute shitshow going on in here.
I reel back as if he slapped me and stare at him as if I’ve never seen him before in my life.
This is not him. This is not the way he talks to me.
Spread my legs? Not once has Jonathan chastised me for going to a bar, meeting someone, and having a little fun.
In fact, if it were for the good of the case, he’d encourage it.
Like this one. Not that I’ve done it very often.
Fuck. I was in a drought when I first met Malic and had been for quite some time.
Because I’m loyal. Addicted to my cases and doing the right thing for Veritas.
Jonathan takes a deep breath and resets himself.
“I’m sorry, Liv,” he says softly, moving toward me, but I step back, watching him warily.
He stares at the distance between us and shakes his head.
“I apologize for that outburst. It was unnecessary and cruel.” Sucking in a breath, he puts a hand on my shoulder and gently squeezes.
“That was the worry coming out. I was worried because you haven’t been responding.
You didn’t do your notes last night like you usually do.
I thought maybe something happened to you.
That Franco got to you again. Sending you here was a big step for me.
I was so afraid for you.” There’s a tightness in his voice that doesn’t match the softness of his face as he looks me dead in the eyes while squeezing my shoulder harder than necessary.
“Uh, yeah. It’s okay, Agent Zero,” I say, lifting my chin slightly and meeting his hardening gaze with my own. I’m not stupid, but I know how to preserve my damn life.
He nods a few times and takes a step back. “Good. So, have you been able to find anything else out on JJ and his little crew? You’ve been here for quite some time. I would expect some sort of progress right now.”
I watch him carefully with a fresh warning ringing in my mind.
A warning that says, I’m in fucking danger right now, and need to watch what I’m saying in front of Jonathan.
Even though he’s my superior. I need to bite my tongue to save my life, but also not let him get wind of what I’m thinking.
He could haul me straight to Veritas jail at any time if he wants to.
“Uh, I’m working on it,” I say as confidently as I can, reaching under my pillow and pulling out the initiation invitation. “It’s happening soon,” I say, handing it to him. “And I secured the invitation. That will get me with Franco.”
Jonathan looks at it for a long time, reading the words over and over again. A satisfied smile crosses his lips, and he visibly lights up. “Well, I’ll be damned. You did it, didn’t you? Was your newest informant any help?”
“Yes. He was a lot of help in securing that,” I carefully say, not wanting to give him too much information on JJ.
He has been my ally since the moment he found out who I was.
Something I never thought I’d get the chance to see again.
My JJ, becoming the man he is today and slowly erasing the memories of the murder his lookalike participated in into something positive.
“Good, good. This is all good news, Liv,” he says, nodding a few times while staring at the invitation. “Make sure your glasses are charged and on your face for the initiations.” He gives me a stern look. “Or I’ll be back, and our conversations won’t be so pleasant.”