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CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

Knight

Personnel records fill my screens while I search for vulnerabilities. Each person represents a potential way into Horizon Tech, but finding the right pressure points is taking time we don't really have. Every moment spent working out the best mark is less time we have to stop the virus. Eva sits beside me, tension radiating from her body as she watches me work. Her reluctance to help manipulate someone bothers me more than it should.

"There." I highlight an employee file. "Amanda Hardwick. Systems administrator. Recent divorce, custody battle pending. Financial troubles from legal fees." The more I dig, the better she looks. "She's been accessing work systems during off-hours, which either makes her dedicated or desperate. My money’s on desperate. Which means she’s probably selling inside information."

I pull up more records. "She's perfect. Access to core infrastructure, technically skilled enough to understand what we need, and enough pressure points to ensure cooperation. She’s got everything we need."

"To ensure we can destroy her life if she doesn't help."

I turn to face her fully, the next steps already forming in my head. "You need to be the one to make contact."

"What? No." She pushes away from the desk. "I won't?—"

"You have to." I catch her wrist before she can retreat. "She won’t trust me. But you? You’ll come across as someone who understands. Someone who’s been through hell and back, just like her."

"Using my pain to manipulate hers." She tries to pull free but I hold on. "That's cruel."

"That's survival." I loosen my grip, but don’t let go entirely. My thumb finds her pulse point, steady despite her protest. "You’ll know exactly what to say to make her listen. How to help her justify helping us."

Her fingers curl into fists but she doesn't pull away. "Like someone knew exactly what to say to make me trust them?"

"Yes." There’s no point sugar-coating it. "Exactly like that."

She closes her eyes, conflict clear in every line of her body. I should let go of her wrist, and reestablish professional distance. Instead, I find myself drawing her closer.

"I know what I'm asking." My voice drops lower. "I know what it’s costing you to even consider it."

"Do you?" Her eyes open, meeting mine. "Do you really understand what it feels like to know you're about to do to someone exactly what was done to you? Or is this you manipulating me to get what you want?"

Okay, so no, I don't know how it feels. But I do understand necessity. I also understand that her ability to connect with people, to empathize, makes her the perfect weapon for this.

I release her wrist to cup her face, forcing her to maintain eye contact. "You can do this in a way I can't. You will make her feel less alone, and help her see that helping us isn’t just necessary—it’s the right choice."

"While knowing we're manipulating her the whole time." But she doesn't pull away from my touch. "And using her fears against her."

"While knowing we're trying to stop something worse ." My thumb traces her cheekbone. "You don't have to destroy her. Just ... guide her toward helping us."

She leans into my palm despite herself. "And if she refuses?"

"Then we'll find another way." The lie comes easily. We both know there isn't time for alternatives.

Hours pass as we plan the approach. Her reluctance gradually shifts to determination as she helps craft the story we'll use. Her insight into human nature proves invaluable, pointing out subtle ways to build trust that I would have missed. Her presence beside me feels more natural with each passing hour. The way she challenges my colder approaches, and forces me to consider gentler methods, should irritate me. Instead, I find myself drawn to her fierce protection of others, even when they’re potential targets.

"We should rest." I finally lean back, eyes burning from staring at screens. "Review everything fresh tomorrow."

She nods but doesn't move from her position next to me. The late hour and shared focus has created an intimacy neither of us seems willing to break.

"Knight?" Her voice carries an edge of uncertainty.

"Hmm?"

"What if I can't do it? What if I freeze when I face her?"

I turn my chair to face her. "You won't."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because I've watched you push through every obstacle thrown at you." My hand finds hers without conscious thought. "You’ve proven time and again you won’t let anything stop you.”

She studies our joined hands. "Sometimes I think you see what you want to see."

"I see exactly what you are." The words come out rougher than intended. "Someone who refuses to break no matter what's thrown at them."

Her free hand comes up to touch my face, the gesture so unexpected it steals my breath. "Someone like you?"

The question hangs between us, heavy with implications neither of us should acknowledge. Her thumb traces my jaw.

"Eva ..." A warning. To her or myself, I'm not sure.

She leans forward, closing the distance between us. This kiss is different from our others – slower, deeper, filled with shared understanding of what tomorrow might bring. My hands slide into her hair, angling her head to deepen the contact.

She makes a small sound against my mouth that undoes what's left of my control. I pull her closer, until she's half in my lap, her body pressed against mine. Her fingers curl into my shirt as the kiss turns hungry, desperate.

Reality intrudes when her hands slip beneath my shirt. I catch her wrists, breaking the kiss but keeping her close. "We need to focus."

"I am focused." She nips at my lower lip. "Very focused."

I laugh, and the sound surprises me. "On the mission. On tomorrow."

She sighs, but doesn't pull away. "Always so practical."

"One of us has to be. After. When this is done ..."

"After." She eases back slightly. "When we've finished manipulating an innocent woman into helping us."

The bitterness in her voice reminds me of what I'm asking her to do. What I'm turning her into. I release her wrists, letting her put space between us.

"Get some rest." I turn back to my screens. "Tomorrow will be challenging enough without exhaustion clouding your judgment."

She stands but hesitates. "What about you?"

"I need to finish something here." It’s a lie. There’s nothing more I can do until I have access to Horizon Tech’s systems. I just need space to remember why I can't let myself get lost in her. Why focusing on the mission matters more than whatever is building between us.