Page 23

Kabir

It didn’t feel right.

I shouldn’t have been alone at the Command Center.

Ever since Squad Six joined forces with Blackthorn Security all those months ago, I’d grown used to Zane’s presence—his sharp mind, his sarcasm, his silence that filled up a room more than most people’s noise ever could.

And now, without him here, the silence felt heavier. Sharper. Like it was actively working against me.

The guilt was louder than any noise could’ve been. I hadn’t found him. I hadn’t protected him. And every passing hour made that fact sit heavier on my chest.

Lia had stopped by earlier. She brought me dinner when I didn’t show up at the lounge for the team meal. I couldn’t sit and pretend things were normal. Not with Zane missing. Not with the mission hanging by a thread.

I told her I had work to do, and that wasn’t a lie. I needed to get back into the White House firewalls. I needed to try every fucking backdoor left. Because Zane wasn’t here to do it, and no one else could.

Sure, the rookies were helpful... in the way toddlers were helpful.

I was spiraling. And then I remembered something.

DaLia .

I hadn’t checked it all day. Not once. I needed to do my daily monitoring of any hits or movements tied to Squad Six or our families.

Fuck. Fuck .

I hoped Amelia wasn’t in my room. I needed this to stay quiet. We didn’t need more panic. Not yet.

I opened the White House Crazon hack again—out of habit, out of desperation—and let it run in the background.

When I reached my room, I didn’t waste any time. DaLia was on. My fingers moved faster now, instinct guiding me as I unlocked my hidden terminal and pulled up the recent flags.

I wasn’t expecting anything.

Just like every other night for the last few weeks.

But then the list appeared. And my stomach dropped.

Seven names.

Bennett, Kaylan – $20M (Detainment)

Carlton, Logan – $5M (Open Hit)

Desmond, Amelia – $20M (Detainment)

Desmond, Dylan – $5M (Open Hit)

Gill, Kabir – $5M (Open Hit)

Mateez, Leora – $20M (Detainment)

Rivera, Zarek – $5M (Open Hit)

There it was. A list that looked like it belonged in a damn execution chamber. Alphabetized. Neat. Efficient.

A price on every one of our heads.

And then the realization hit—harder than any bullet I’d ever taken.

The men had open hits.

But the women?

Detainment.

No one used that word unless they meant displacement. Trafficking. Disappearing. Ruined.

My blood ran cold. I could barely breathe. The world tilted slightly and I had to brace my hand on the desk to steady myself.

Amelia.

I couldn’t let anything happen to her.

Or Kaylan. Or Leora.

Any of them.

This was no longer a hypothetical. This was real—this was happening.

If someone touched a single fucking hair on Lia’s head—

My Sentrix app buzzed.

I flinched. Hard.

Not the dreaded ping. Just a system notification.

I let my eyes fall shut for a brief second. Tried to force oxygen into my lungs.

But the relief didn’t last.

Because I had finally cracked the White House Crazon.

Fucking hell.

???

“You’re saying we need at least two people for the Situation Room take down?”

I nodded at Sebastian, watching the lines of tension already tightening across his forehead.

We were in the Command Center—everyone present, except for Ronan and Zane.

The air was heavy. The mission was laid out: a high-security charity gala at the White House, a perfect cover for infiltration. Zane and Delara had built the strategy weeks ago. Only, now… Zane wasn’t here.

So it fell on me.

I kept my tone even, steady as I continued the briefing, “The gala’s on the East side—about as far from the West Wing as we’re going to get. But it’s enough of a distraction.”

“Can we risk one more Alpha Team member?” Zarek asked.

“Wait…” Amelia’s voice broke through, sharp and sudden. “One more?”

I froze. Her eyes locked onto mine. Wide. Realization blooming.

Shit. She’d figured it out.

That I was going in.

I stepped toward her, gently placing my hand on her shoulder.

“Hey,” I said softly. “We don’t have a choice. Zane’s not here.”

She was already shaking her head.

“Sweetheart—”

“Amelia,” she snapped at Seb, sharp and immediate.

The edge in her voice made me bite back a smirk. I wanted to enjoy it a little longer, but the look on Sebastian’s face stopped me. He didn’t look smug anymore—just tired.

He raised his hands, nodding in quiet surrender.

“Amelia,” he corrected himself, gentler now. “There’s no other way. We need Zane for this, and he’s… gone. We don’t even know if he’s—”

He cut himself off.

But her gaze was still on me. Unwavering. Unrelenting.

And then… her face changed. I saw the fire light up behind her eyes.

Shit. No. Don’t.

“No,” I snapped, already knowing what was coming.

“Yes,” she shot back, voice trembling but firm.

She was shaking now, full of fury and something deeper—something closer to determination.

“Baby, please,” I tried. “I can do this alone. It’s better that way.”

A throat clearing behind us broke the standoff.

“Care to include the rest of us in this riveting telepathic showdown?” Logan smirked, arms crossed like this was a game show.

“She wants to—”

“I want to volunteer for the mission,” Amelia interrupted. “I’ll join Kabir and Delara.”

“You won’t.” Dylan’s voice was low and final. A steel wall.

I let out a breath. Thank god.

“Dylan,” Amelia argued. “You can’t seriously think I’m incapable.”

“She’s not incapable,” Delara added. “And you know it.”

Dylan’s jaw clenched, but he didn’t respond.

Delara continued. “Amelia trained with us during the VR sims. She’s more than capable. And Kabir’s not going to be able to manage the Crazon interface while infiltrating. You’ll need someone who knows the tech side.”

I hated how logical that sounded. Hated that Delara was right.

But Amelia?

I looked at her again.

She wasn’t asking.

She was standing like she already had boots on the ground.

Zarek finally stepped forward, arms folded. “I won’t be joining this op,” he said. “Leora’s not doing well. I need to be with her.”

Logan smiled quietly to himself at that, but didn’t say a word.

Sebastian looked around at all of us before finally settling his gaze on me. “You’re the lead. You okay with this?”

I didn’t answer immediately.

I wanted to say no.

I wanted to keep Amelia far, far away from danger.

There was already a fucking hit out for all of us.

But I wasn’t the man who could tell her where she could and couldn’t stand.

“She’s an asset,” I muttered at last. “She knows Sentrix. She can help.”

Amelia’s eyes softened—just slightly. But she didn’t gloat. Didn’t even smile.

Because she knew what I was really saying.

She wasn’t just a good choice.

She was the choice.

But when I looked at Dylan, I knew I had thoroughly pissed him off.

Amelia

“Amelia,” Dylan’s voice cut through the hallway, halting my steps toward the VR sim. I glanced at him over my shoulder and quickly signaled Kabir to keep going.

He gave me a gentle kiss on the forehead, nodded once at Dylan, and walked off without protest.

“Dyl, listen—”

“Just—wait.” He exhaled slowly, squeezing his eyes shut for a second like he was trying to get his words straight. “I’m glad you’re volunteering. You’re capable. Hell, you’re the best candidate for this. But…”

I nodded, already sensing the storm brewing behind his composed exterior. “It’ll be fine, brother. I won’t let us lose anyone else.”

He swallowed hard, like the words he really wanted to say were caught somewhere in his throat. “You… fixed it, huh? The mess?”

I stepped closer, softening my tone. “Yeah. We’re good.”

His gaze was cautious. “You’re not hurting anymore?”

The concern in his voice made my heart twist, but I didn’t want him carrying my weight. I smirked, knowing exactly how to deflect it. “Oh, I’m a little sore. Kabir is—”

Before I could finish, his massive hand clamped over my mouth with a groan. He bent forward slightly, clearly regretting letting me speak.

“Christ, Amelia,” he muttered.

I burst out laughing, muffled against his hand.

But the moment passed too quickly. His hand dropped, and I caught the flicker of fear still etched across his face. My little joke hadn’t eased the tension like I’d hoped.

I gently took his wrist, grounding him. “It’s going to be okay,” I said quietly. “I know you’re scared. I am too. But I can feel it, Dyl. We’re getting close to the end of this. Closer than we’ve ever been.”

He let out a breath, one that felt like it carried too much weight for his broad shoulders.

“Yeah,” he said finally.

Something shifted in his expression then—something unreadable, gone before I could pin it down.

“Go train, Mellie.”

I gave him a sweet smile before pinching his side. This time, he was ready. No reaction, just that classic deadpan glare of his.

“You call me that again, and I’ll shave your head in your sleep,” I singsonged over my shoulder as I walked away—his snort echoing behind me.

???

“So, we’ve got the route down from the East Wing to the West. The basement entrance will be a bit tricky, though.”

Kabir’s commanding voice had been giving me jitters for the past thirty minutes. Not the annoying kind. The kind that made me shift in my seat, squeeze my thighs together, and struggle to keep my thoughts on the mission.

He’d always been like this—clear, confident, focused. And I’d always reacted this way. But now? Now I actually had permission to feel it. To want him. To think about dragging my lips across his throat while my name spilled from his mouth.

“We can make a tweak in the VR sim,” he continued, voice calm but firm, that signature weight in every word. “As long as I handle the physical security outside the Situation Room, I’m sure Lia can use the Sentrix to unlock the entrance. I’d be inside, no sweat.”

Hell yeah, you’d be inside. But there’d definitely be sweat.

His gaze flicked to me right then, and I swear he could see the spiraling in my brain. Maybe even the way my knee bounced just a little too fast under the table.

He didn’t smirk.

But his eyes said everything.

“You good with that, Lia?”

Where is it?

The professionalism? The discipline?

“Yeah,” I breathed. “That’s perfect.”

Shit. That was too breathy. I knew it the second it left my mouth.

This time, he smirked. Full and unfiltered. I couldn’t help the matching grin that tugged at my lips. We were both idiots.

Someone cleared their throat, and we both froze.

“I don’t know about you all,” Delara said in her ever-poised British accent, “but I’m starting to feel like we’re no longer talking about mission objectives.”

Kabir and I snapped our heads in her direction. I’d forgotten she was even in the room. Of course she was—this was a strategy briefing. A professional one.

Shit.

Maybe Dylan was right. We were distracted.

“Um…” Kabir fumbled, the tips of his ears reddening. “Yeah, so—I’ll make that tweak, and we can run the sim later tonight.”

Delara gave him a knowing look and patted his back as she passed. “I’m sure you’ll do anything to get inside .”

Kabir coughed hard as she left the room.

Once the door shut, I stepped behind him, slipping my hand over his shoulder. He was glued to his laptop, pretending to focus—pretending very, very hard. He flinched when I touched him, which only made me laugh.

“You good, Mr. Gill?”

He groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “Add three security officers,” he muttered to himself.

I leaned in, sliding my hands across his shoulders and down the back of his neck. His muscles tensed, then melted slightly under my fingers.

“Level six,” he continued, voice rough. “Kill efficiency, 0.8.”

Still going. Like a robot short-circuiting under pressure.

I kissed the back of his neck, slow and soft.

He groaned again, lower this time. “Increase boot time to… t-three minutes.”

And still… still going.

This man. My sweet, flustered genius. So desperate to stay on task.

I smiled against his skin. “You sure you don’t want to simulate something else right now?”

He paused.

I did it, then.

I bit him lightly—right near his pulse point.

And within seconds, I was slammed against the wall. The chair Kabir had just vacated spun in place, forgotten.

But I couldn’t focus on that.

Not when his mouth was on my neck, ravaging, devouring, claiming. My eyes fluttered shut as his hands roamed beneath my top, his touch reverent but hungry.

Then he bit me. Just like I had. Right at the curve of my neck.

“You can’t tempt me and assume I won’t take the fucking bait, Ms. Desmond,” he growled against my skin.

His lips dragged to my jaw while his fingers pushed my top up, exposing my breast. The sudden heat of his mouth on my nipple drew a moan from me—uncontrolled and raw.

My body arched into him, everything else fading to static.

Until—

Click.

The door.

My eyes flew open. Panic flared as Kabir stilled, reacting with lightning precision. He tugged my top back down, adjusted my clothes, and just like that—he was back in his chair, cool and composed.

I barely had a second to fix my expression before the door creaked open.

Dylan walked in.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

I spun around, my face burning. The very definition of guilt written all over me.

Kabir, the traitor, let out a snort.

I was going to kill him.

“I should’ve fucking knocked,” Dylan muttered, clearly exasperated.

“We weren’t doing anything,” Kabir replied, far too quickly—and with the tone of a teenage boy caught sneaking around.

I slapped both hands to my cheeks and forced a bright, too-wide smile as I turned to face my brother. “Hi.”

“Right…” Dylan said flatly, rolling his eyes.

“How can we help you, Dyl?” I asked, trying to sound breezy, even as my heart was still racing from Kabir’s mouth.

I noticed Kabir hesitate, his voice strangely cautious. “What’s going on?”

Dylan didn’t blink. “I’m joining you for the op, brother.”

Wait… what?

Kabir muttered something too low for me to catch, but Dylan’s eyes widened just slightly.

Then— oh my God —he smiled. My perpetually stoic brother’s lips were curved to an actual, rare smile.

“What did you say?” I asked, looking between the two.

Kabir glanced at me over his shoulder. “Nothing.”

Dylan coughed to mask a laugh, but I wasn’t letting this slide. I’d ask Kabir later.

“You’re joining the op? Why?”

He shrugged, casual as ever. “You need two people on lookout. Seb’s out. Delara and I will handle intel gathering and monitor extraction routes. Old-school.”

I nodded slowly, but something was off. Kabir was suddenly tense—his posture tight, his hands still. I didn’t know what exactly was bothering him, but I could feel it in the shift of his energy.

We were already breaking lockdown protocol with me and him on the mission. Dylan joining made no difference.

So why did it feel like Kabir was waiting for the other shoe to drop?