She moved the vase to the center island, then cleaned up her brunch dishes and pans from hours earlier. Back at the kitchen table, she continued working, pausing to appreciate the stunning bouquet.
As a watcher for Z—real name: Philip Skye—she’d been left to do her own thing. It was an easy gig that had served its purpose, but as of late, she’d grown bored.
Maybe that’s a good sign. Maybe I’m ready to go back.
Years earlier, when an ALPHA Operative had gone off the rails and killed another Op, Z had created the watcher. These top-secret positions ensured that the people hired to serve and protect at the highest level, were doing their jobs and not engaged in any activities that would compromise their positions or the organizations they served.
Over the past two years, she’d watched plenty of ALPHA Ops, FBI Special Agents, Secret Service Agents, high-ranking military officers, and Navy SEALS. Every gig was different. After a designated period of time, she’d write up a report and forward it to Z. Sometimes Simone would observe an ALPHA Op after a mission, especially when the mission didn’t go as expected.
Pain shot through her chest. She knew, firsthand, how that felt.
Now that Z had retired, she’d been readying her reports for her new boss, Carrera Santini. Reading through the file on Luciano Santini, she wondered what Carrera would say about her watching his cousin. One thing she had gleaned from Z’s off-the-books gig was that Luciano conducted a lot of work in person at his mansion in Great Falls.
Though Z was convinced Luciano was still involved in his family’s crime business, she had seen nothing that would lead her to believe he was doing anything illegal. Admittedly, she hadn’t been able to learn very much about him at all. Once his guests were behind the massive gates and fence surrounding his estate, they vanished from sight.
Where Luciano lived was very special to her. He had purchased the property from Colton Mitus, whose home had been her refuge for three years while she patched together the shattered pieces of her broken life.
A shudder had her pushing out of her chair. While she’d loved working for Colton and appreciated that he’d afforded her a safe place to live, she hated thinking aboutwhyshe’d gone there in the first place.
The aroma of freshly-cut flowers wafted in her direction and she ran her fingertip over the velvety petals of a yellow rose. One more inhale before she filled her mug and sat back down. She opened the dossier she’d created on Luciano Santini, skimmed the report until she found what she needed—his personal cell phone number. With phone in hand, she typed out a simple text.
The flowers are beautiful. Thank you. I don’t think we should get together again.
Her finger hovered over the up arrow. Instead of sending the message, she re-read the card.
Next time, ladies first
Her thoughts drifted to his hard, sculpted body, his hungry mouth on hers, the sensuality in his touch, and the possessive way he held her. Her insides quivered with desire.
Why say no to sex with a handsome, powerful man? It’s just a hookup… for the fun of it.
She deleted the last sentence.
The flowers are beautiful. Thank you
Before she could change her mind or analyze it further, she sent it, then turned her attention back to work.
Her phone buzzed with a text from her close friend, Frederica.
Yo, I’m leaving the gym. Should I swing by?
Since day one at Quantico, she and Frederica—Fred for short—had become fast friends. Though they were very different, both physically and how they approached a challenge, they worked well together and they got along great.
A short time later, her doorbell rang. Simone hurried to open it.
“Safe to enter?” Fred asked.
“Come back later. I’m busy with my harem of men.”
Laughing, they entered her kitchen. After Fred dropped her workout bag in the corner, she filled her water bottle. Her short, blonde hair was plastered to her head and her workout clothes were damp with sweat.
“Are you trying to kill yourself?” Simone asked.
Fred eased down at the kitchen island and swiveled toward Simone. “I’ve got a mission this week, so I pushed myself super hard.”
A pang of envy shot through her, but she squashed it down. “Tell me about it.”
As an ALPHA Operative, Fred chased down the worst of the worst. Serial rapists, serial killers, and terrorists who escaped prison or got off on a technicality or a botched police investigation, then went right back to doing whatever heinous crime had gotten them arrested in the first place. Most times, ALPHA arrested them, but sometimes their missions would call for more drastic measures.
