I’ve grown so resentful the past seven months, I hardly recognize myself anymore. I don’t look at people and see the good in them like I used to. I point out their flaws and exploit their defects. I’m not doing it to be mean. I’m doing it to save them from living through the hell I’ve been living the past eight months. They may hate me for it, but their hate will only be one tenth of the pain they’ll endure if they don’t learn from my heartache.
With that in mind, I swivel around to face my desk. An email I typed an hour ago sits on the monitor, waiting to be sent. It is only a two sentence message, but its importance is unmissable.
I accept Isabelle Brahn’s request to join my department.
Details to be forwarded shortly.
I hit send before I can talk myself out of it. I’m not a spineless agent doing anything I can to get my man. I’m ensuring my shrewdness is on par with the man I’m targeting. Isaac has dogged prosecution for years with underhanded, malicious tactics, so it’s time for him to be hit with the same methods.
He’s about to meet his match—literally.
Ten
Alex
“Excuse me.”
I watch a pretty brunette of medium height and build enter my office a little after 9 AM. Even with her hip missing the gun most agents under my watch carry, I can tell she’s an agent. She’s timid, but her constant scan of her surroundings proves her observation skills are on point. Although I’m confident she’s a rookie, she must have been surrounded by law enforcement officers during her childhood. She holds herself with authority. . . even with her knees clanging together.
When Michelle walks by her, too busy compiling the evidence we gathered on Isaac the past weekend to pay her any attention, the brunette paces to Brandon’s desk. I smirk. She chose well. He’s the most fearless-looking agent in my crew. He gives you the friendlyI’ll never do anything to hurt youvibe. It’s a pity she failed to see the gleam in his eyes I spotted nearly a year ago.
“Hello,” she greets Brandon, stopping at his desk.
Her voice matches her attractiveness. It’s sweet, yet sultry. It shouldn’t piss me off that her husky tone zapped my cock with an energy it hasn’t felt in over nine months, but it does.
“I need that document now, Brandon!” My angry roar is more a warning to my cock than announcing my irritation that it’s taken Brandon thirty minutes to gather Isaac’s movement sheet from this morning.
Isaac rarely changes his routine, but he did this weekend. Not only did he stay at his office from sun up to sundown Saturday through to Sunday, he flew commercial. Along with his best mate/business associate, Cormack McGregor, Isaac owns a fleet of private jets, but his trip from New York to Ravenshoe earlier this week was done via a business class seat in a commercially owned aircraft.
Although we’ve yet to discover why he flew commercial, we all agreed it was out of character for him. He’s leaving us breadcrumbs; we’ve just got to follow him in the direction he’s attempting to deter us from.
With a goofy grin, Brandon snatches a document off his desk before hightailing it my way. The brunette tracks his race around the room. My brows quirk when her eyes land on me. It isn’t the fastest creep of color fanning her cheeks that elicits my odd response; it is the giggle spilling from her lips.
What the fuck does she think is funny?
Realizing she’s been busted laughing, she settles her giggles before bridging the gap between us. My lips set into a hard line when my cock notices the natural roll of her hips with every step she takes. She doesn’t have the same sexy siren walk Regan has, but it gains her the attention of every male agent in the room. She even garnered the glare of a handful of female agents.
A sweet, feminine scent smacks into me when she stops to stand in front of me. “Hi, I’m Isabelle Brahn, your new agent.” She holds out her dainty hand for me to shake.
It takes me replaying her greeting three times before my brain comprehends what she said. “Michelle!” I shout, causing Isabelle to jump. “I thought I ordered a blonde?”
Yep, that sounded as bad out loud as it did in my head. I don’t mean to be an asshole. . .
Actually, scrap that. Yes, I do.
I agreed for Isabelle to join my crew because she was described as a goddess who would have any man under her spell within thirty seconds of meeting him. Although I’m pleased with what I’m seeing, Isaac doesn’t date brunettes. That’s the whole reason I asked on numerous occasions if Isabelle was blonde.
My requests were extremely thorough: an attractive blonde with killer long legs, green eyes and no concerns going undercover for the good of the Bureau. Isabelle is not what I ordered.
“Does she look brunette to you?” I ask Michelle when she arrives at my side.
Isabelle’s wide eyes bounce between Michelle and me when Michelle answers, “Umm, yes, she does appear to be brunette.”
I work my jaw side to side as anger makes itself known with my gut. “In the past two months, have you ever seen him with a brunette?”
Before Michelle can answer, Isabelle asks, “What does my hair color have to do with my placement?”
The attitude in her voice thickens both my veins and my cock, which engulfs me with so much anger, I feel my pupils widening with every ragged breath I take. “Isaac Holt fucks blondes; you’re a brunette.”
