Page 4

Leo checked his watch, the tension making his shoulders rise.“Rook.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Rook tapped his earpiece, his expression transforming from sardonic to lethal. “Show time, ladies and gentlemen.”

3

The restof his team melted into the night through the tower block’s basement rear door. Wreaths of smoke in the wind.

Leo cupped Kat’s elbow. “Stay close.” Touching her sparked something in him he couldn’t afford to analyze right now. Above them, the Hudson building knifed into the dark sky. Five ground exits. Six elevators. Two stairwells. A logistical nightmare for most, but his team had it covered. His stomach cramped at the thought of what awaited them inside.

They moved as shadows across the plaza, her steps matching his with precision. He tracked her movements even as he surveyed their surroundings—a habit he couldn’t shake, no matter how capable the woman beside him proved to be. And he didn’t doubt Kat Landon was more than capable. The steel in her spine suggested someone who’d earned her position the hard way.

“You don’t strike me as the typical guns-for-hire type.” Her voice was a scant whisper.

Leo scanned upward, checking the dark windows above them. His mind catalogued possible sniper positions, angles of fire—anything that might threaten his team. Threatenher.“That’s because I’m not. Let’s just say certain people in your organization understand that sometimes you need alternative solutions.”Because sometimes rules and red tape strangle the right thing.He slowed as they approached the main doors, hyperaware of her presence beside him. “Does it bother you?”

“No. Actually, it makes a change, knowing there are still people willing to do what’s necessary. Damn the consequences.”

He looked at her then, understanding crackling between them. Maybe she knew the weight of impossible choices and understood that sometimes protection meant getting your hands dirty. It made his usual instinct to shield her feel less like condescension and more like partnership.

Comms hissed. “Five minutes to breach,” Rook said. “If you two are done with the deep and meaningful, the clock’s ticking and I’m getting older by the second here.”

The building towered before them, its glass façade reflecting nothing but shadows. Two armed men emerged from the revolving doors, their weapons ready, faces obscured. Leo’s breathing slowed, instinct warring within him, wanting to step between Kat and the men. But that would defeat the entire purpose.

This was her show now.

“Remember,” he murmured, barely moving his lips. “We’ll be right behind you. Five minutes after you clear the lobby.” His hand twitched at his side, wanting to reach for her hand to give it a reassuring squeeze, but knowing he couldn’t show any sign that she was anything but expendable to him.

The taller guard barked at them. “Landon. Hands where we can see them.”

Leo forced himself to step back, to let her walk forward alone. He’d worked dozens of operations like this, watched good people walk into the lion’s den, but something about watching her take measured steps toward those men made his throat close up.

Fuck Bychkov. She’s trained for this. Your job is to get her out, not lose your head before it even starts.

“In position,” Rook’s voice murmured in his ear. “All teams green.”

Leo retreated, his eyes never leaving Kat’s back as the guards patted her down. Every second felt like an eternity, but he kept his breathing steady, kept his trigger finger relaxed. Five minutes.

He could do anything for five minutes.

The guards flanked her, then led her through the glass doors. Light glinted off her auburn hair one last time before she disappeared into the building’s maw.

And then she was gone.

4

Kat pushed through the door,leaving Leo behind. When she glanced back, he was gone—swallowed by shadows as if he’d never existed. But fifteen years of fieldwork had taught her better.

He was there, watching.

The doors swung shut with a soft hiss, sealing her in the lobby with the two armed men. Her training clicked into place—not the polished MI6 protocols, but the instincts honed during her five years as a Weapons Engineering Officer in the Royal Navy that had taught her to think clearly under pressure.

Dim emergency lights cast long shadows across the marble floor, gleaming off patches where tracked-in snow had melted. Professional calm settled over her.

Breathe, girl.

“You’re doing great.” Leo’s voice on her ear comms sank into her, the connection with him slowing her erratic heartbeat.

“Show me your hands.” The taller guard’s weapon followed her movements with military precision. These men were not thugs.