First Rule: Don't Fall For The Enemy

CHAPTER 17

MIRA'S POV

Jesse's words hung in the air like a loaded weapon. "Want to try that story again?"

I stared at him, my mind racing for an explanation that wouldn't destroy everything. "I don't know what you mean."

"Don't you?" He stepped closer, his blue eyes cold and calculating. "Your dress is inside out, Mira. You've been gone for three days without a word, and you come home looking like you got dressed in the dark."

"It was a long flight—"

"Cut the shit." His voice was sharp, dangerous. "I've been doing this job for eight years. I know what someone looks like when they've been fucked."

The crude word hit me like a slap. "Jesse—"

"Just tell me the truth. For once, just tell me the goddamn truth." His hands were clenched into fists at his sides. "Did you sleep with him?"

I opened my mouth to deny it, but the words wouldn't come. Because he was right. I had slept with Adrian. I'd done more than that, I'd fallen in love with him.

"I can't believe this," Jesse said when I didn't answer. "I actually can't fucking believe this."

"You don't understand—"

"What don't I understand? That you're cheating on me with the target?" His voice was getting louder, more dangerous. "That you've completely lost sight of why we're here?"

"I haven't lost sight of anything!"

"Haven't you?" He laughed bitterly. "When's the last time you gathered actual intelligence? When's the last time you tried to access his files instead of his bed?"

The accusation made my temper flare. "You want proof? Fine. Give me proof that I'm cheating on you."

"Proof?" Jesse's smile was sharp, predatory. "You want proof?"

"Yes. Show me your evidence instead of making accusations."

He moved toward me with deliberate steps, his eyes never leaving my face. "Turn around."

"What?"

"Turn around. Look in the mirror."

I didn't want to, could already guess what he was going to show me, but I turned toward the full-length mirror by our bedroom door. Jesse stepped behind me, his hands finding my shoulders.

"Look at your neck," he said quietly.

I lifted my chin, and my heart stopped. There, just below my ear and trailing down toward my collarbone, were dark purple marks that could only be one thing. Hickeys. Evidence of Adrian's mouth on my skin, of the passionate way he'd claimed me.

"Shit," I breathed.

"Shit is right." Jesse's voice was deadly calm. "So tell me again how professional your trip was."

I turned to face him, seeing the hurt and fury warring in his expression. "Jesse, I can explain—"

"Can you? Because those marks tell a pretty clear story." He gestured toward my neck. "They tell me that Adrian Roth had his mouth all over you. They tell me that while I was here worried sick, you were in some hotel room betraying everything we've worked for."

"It's not like that—"

"Isn't it?" His voice cracked slightly. "Jesus, Mira. We've been together for two years. Two years! And you threw it all away for what? Some billionaire who's going to destroy you the moment he finds out who you really are?"

"You don't know him—"

"I know enough!" Jesse exploded. "I know he's a criminal who's stolen millions from investors. I know he's the reason we're here. And I know that my girlfriend has apparently decided he's more important than our relationship or our mission."

"That's not true!"

"Then prove it." His eyes blazed with challenge. "Get the evidence we need and let's end this nightmare."

I stared at him, paralyzed. Because I couldn't do what he was asking. The thought of betraying Adrian, of being the one to destroy him, made me physically sick.

"I can't," I whispered.

"You can't, or you won't?"

"Both."

The admission hung between us like a death sentence. Jesse stared at me for a long moment, then nodded slowly.

"I see." His voice was hollow. "So that's it then. You're choosing him."

"I'm not choosing anyone—"

"Bullshit. You've already chosen." He moved closer, and I could see the desperation in his eyes. "But it's not too late, Mira. We can fix this. We can get past this."

Before I could react, his hands cupped my face and he was kissing me. But it wasn't the gentle kisses I remembered from before. This was desperate, possessive, like he was trying to claim me through sheer force of will.

I pushed against his chest, turning my face away. "Jesse, don't—"

"I love you," he said desperately. "I've loved you for two years, and I'm not going to lose you to some psychopath with a nice suit."

"He's not a psychopath—"

"He is! And you're too blind to see it because you're thinking with your heart instead of your head." His hands gripped my shoulders. "This isn't you, Mira. The woman I love would never compromise our mission like this."

"Maybe the woman you love doesn't exist anymore."

The words came out harsher than I'd intended, but they were true. The Mira who'd started this mission was gone, replaced by someone I barely recognized. Someone who'd fallen in love with the enemy.

Jesse's hands dropped from my shoulders like I'd burned him. "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying I'm tired." Exhaustion crashed over me suddenly, bone-deep and overwhelming. "I'm tired of lying, tired of pretending, tired of being someone I'm not."

"You're not pretending with me—"

"Aren't I?" I met his eyes, seeing the pain there, but unable to stop myself from continuing. "How long have we been lying to each other, Jesse? How long have we been pretending this relationship was about more than convenience and mission parameters?"

"That's not true—"

"Isn't it? When's the last time we talked about something other than work? When's the last time you looked at me and saw Mira instead of your partner?"

He opened his mouth to argue, then closed it. Because we both knew I was right. Our relationship had been built on shared danger and professional compatibility, not real love. Not the kind of love that made you want to throw away everything for one person.

"So what happens now?" he asked quietly.

"I don't know." I grabbed my jacket from the chair, suddenly desperate to get out of the apartment, away from his hurt eyes and justified anger. "I need air. I need to think."

"Mira, don't leave. We can work through this—"

"Can we?" I paused at the door, looking back at him. "Because I don't think we can. I don't think we can work through the fact that I'm in love with someone else."

The words hung in the air like a bomb going off. Jesse's face went white, then red, then white again.

"You love him," he said flatly.

"Yes."

"More than me."

I could have lied. Could have spared his feelings, tried to soften the blow. But he deserved the truth, even if it destroyed us both.

"Yes," I whispered.

He nodded slowly, like he'd been expecting that answer but hoping he was wrong. "Go then. Go to him."

"Jesse—"

"Just go, Mira. Before I say something we'll both regret."

I left the apartment with his words ringing in my ears, my heart breaking for the pain I'd caused him and the relationship I'd destroyed. But as I stood on the sidewalk outside our building, breathing in the cool night air, I felt something else too.

Relief.

My hands shook as I pulled out my phone and scrolled through my contacts. I found Adrian's number and stared at it for a long moment, knowing that calling him would be crossing another line, making another choice I couldn't take back.

But I was tired of pretending. Tired of lying. Tired of being someone I wasn't.

I hit the call button and brought the phone to my ear, my heart pounding as it rang once, twice, three times.

"Elise?" Adrian's voice was concerned, surprised. "Are you alright?"

"No," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "I'm not alright at all."