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“I know,” he says as he leans in closer, his voice low and intense. “I’ve been thinking more about how we can get inside. There’s a service entrance here,” he points to a spot on the blueprint, “that would be less guarded. If we time it right, during shift change, we could slip in unnoticed.”

Listening intently, my mind is already cataloging possibilities and potential obstacles. “What about the internal security systems? They’ll have cameras, motion sensors…”

“That’s where Marcus comes in,” Myall says. “He’ll remain behind and work his magic to create a blind spot for us on the software Arden created.”

I pause, considering. “It could work, but do you think Arden’s ready for this after what she just went through…”

We continue to refine the plan, and I can’t help but marvel at how in sync we are. Myall’s strategic mind complements my technical knowledge perfectly.

“Do you really think we can pull this off?” I ask, glancing sidelong at Myall, voicing the doubt that’s been gnawing at me. “Don’t sugar coat it, be honest with me.”

Myall’s hand tightens over mine as he meets my gaze, unwaveringly. “I believe in us, Ziva. In you. If anyone can bring down The Authority and free people from these damned NeuroMods, it’s you. It’s always been you.”

My cheeks flush, his words fill me with a warmth that has nothing to do with the plan and everything to do with the man before me.

Taking a deep breath, I try to calm the storm of emotions swirling inside me and the way my body instantly reacts to Myall. “We should run through the contingencies one more time,” I say, clearing my throat and forcing myself to focus. “If we can’t access the main control room—”

“Then we fall back to Plan B,” Myall finishes, his voice steady. “We use the maintenance tunnels to plant the disruptors at key junctions. It’ll take longer for the effect to spread, but—”

“But it’s better than nothing,” I nod, appreciating his foresight.

We spend the next several hours meticulously going over every detail, every possible scenario.

Finally, Myall leans back, running a hand through his disheveled hair. “I think that’s as solid as we can make it. We’ll present it to the others tonight at the factory.”

The mention of our impending meeting with the others suddenly makes everything feel real. I wipe my sweaty palms on my thighs as a tremor of fear runs through me. “Myall, what if—”

He doesn’t let me finish as he rises from his chair and pulls me into his arms. I bury my face in his chest, inhaling his familiar scent.

“I’m scared, Myall,” I admit quietly, voicing the fears I’ve been trying to hide.

Myall’s arms tighten around me. “Me too,” he confesses, his usual confident facade cracking. “But we’ll face whatever happens next together.”

Looking up at him, I see my own fears and hopes reflected in his green eyes. Without thinking, I reach up and trace the line of his jaw. “Promise me you’ll be careful,” I say softly.

“Only if you promise the same,” he replies, his mouth twitching at the corners.

His fingers brush mine as he guides us toward the sofa. When he pulls me down beside him, there’s a slight tremor in his touch—something raw, something human.

His arms encircle me, pulling me closer, the heat of his body pressing against mine, his heart beating in time with my own.

His chest feels solid beneath my cheek, his breath steady in the dim light.

For a moment, all the weight of our mission, all the danger ahead, feels distant, like it doesn’t matter in this small, fragile space.

I breathe in his scent—lemon soap mixed with the faint, earthy tang of sweat—and the familiar comfort of his presence soothes the raw edges of my nerves. My fingers curl into the soft fabric of his sweater, tugging him closer, needing to feel the reassurance of his touch.

His lips graze my forehead, a feather-light kiss that makes my toes curl. I tilt my face up to meet his, the warmth between us almost tangible as his gaze meets mine. For a heartbeat, we hold each other’s gaze, and the world seems to narrow down to the space between us.

Without a word, he leans in, his lips brushing mine in a tentative kiss. It deepens quickly, heat flooding through me. The sensation of his lips against mine makes everything else fade—the fear, the mission, the unknowns.

I pull him closer, my hands finding the soft locks of his hair, and he responds, his hands sliding around my waist, pulling me to him with a quiet urgency.

Breaking the kiss, lips still tingling, I rest my forehead against his. “We don’t have much time,” I whisper, my breath ragged.

His response is a soft chuckle, his voice low and husky. “I know. But right now… I don’t care.”

His lips crush against mine, hot and demanding, and I moan into his mouth. My hands claw at his hair, pulling him closer, desperate for more. He moans low in his throat, his hands gripping my waist like he’s afraid I’ll vanish beneath him.

The kiss deepens, his tongue slipping past my lips, tangling with mine. I can feel his length hardening against my thigh, and it sends a jolt of pure, unhinged desire straight to my core.

Breathless, I pull back for a second, my breath hitching. Myall’s lips trail down my neck, sucking and biting at the sensitive skin there. I gasp, arching into him, my fingers tugging at his shirt until it’s off and tossed aside.

He moves his way down my body, and my breath catches in my throat.

His hands slide up my thighs and he rubs his thumbs against my heat before reaching to undo my pants.

I lift my hips as he removes them and tosses them to the floor.

I’m already wet, my underwear soaked through, and when he presses his lips against the thin fabric, I nearly come undone.

“Myall,” I whimper, my voice trembling with nerves and anticipation. He looks up at me, his eyes dark with hunger. He hooks his fingers into the waistband of my underwear and pulls them down slowly, gliding them down my legs, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake.

I’m exposed, vulnerable, and I can see the way his gaze burns as he takes me in.

He reaches out, grabbing my knee and angling my hip, opening myself for him.

He doesn’t waste time. He leans down, his tongue lashing out, licking from my entrance to my clit.

I cry out, my hands flying to his hair, desperate for something to hold on to.

“Holy fuck,” I gasp as he circles my clit with the tip of his tongue, the sensation almost overwhelming. His hands grip my thighs, spreading me wider as he dives in, his mouth hot and wet against me.

That feels so fucking good.

He suckles at my clit, flicking it with his tongue, and my core trembles. My breathing is short and shallow. One of his fingers slides inside me, curling just right, and I moan loud enough to wake the dead.

“That feels…so good.” I moan, my fingers gripping his hair tighter.

He adds another finger, stretching me wider.

His fingers thrust inside me while his mouth works me over.

The heat builds, coiling tighter and tighter in my core until I’m shaking, my hips bucking involuntarily.

This is nothing like the other night. This isn’t slow and tender, this is full of hunger and burning desire.

“Please,” I whine, my voice breaking. “Don’t stop.”

He growls against me, the vibrations sending shockwaves through my body.

I’m so close to the edge, my inner muscles tightening.

His tongue circles my clit faster, harder, and his fingers thrust deeper, hitting that spot inside me that makes my vision blur.

I lose it, my orgasm crashing over me like a tidal wave.

I scream his name, my thighs clamping around his head as I ride out the pleasure.

He doesn’t stop until I’m twitching and whimpering, oversensitive and completely wrecked.

He pulls back, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. His gaze flickers down to my lips before meeting my eyes again.

“We don’t have much time,” he says, echoing my earlier words, his voice rough and dripping with desire.

I barely have the strength to respond, but I manage to whisper, “Then stop wasting it,” before he pulls me to my feet, dragging me toward my bedroom.