Despite myself, I smile. The sight is ridiculous. These girls don’t have a clue about the danger circling their world, but watching them, you wouldn’t want to tell them otherwise. Asher, for all his quirks, knows how to keep their spirits up. It’s good for them—and for Mia. She deserves some joy in her life, even if it’s borrowed.
Through the kitchen window, I catch glimpses of Mia and Damon. She’s standing by the counter, her arms crossed, her posture tight. Damon’s speaking, his expression unusuallygentle. He holds out a small object. The burner phone, I’m guessing.
The way Damon watches her when she’s not looking… it’s not out of professional concern. I’ve seen that look before. The kind of look a man gives when he’s tied to someone deeper than he’s willing to admit.
A sharp twist of jealousy cuts through me.
Jealousy? What the hell for? I don’t even know what I’m feeling jealous about. Damon and I have always had a clear boundary between the job and everything else. He’s been my boss for years, and I’ve never questioned him. But right now, watching the way he interacts with Mia, I feel... off.
As I finish my sweep of the yard, movement catches my eye again—this time, Asher. He’s not focused on the twins anymore. Instead, he’s watching the kitchen window, where Damon and Mia are still deep in conversation. His expression is hard to read—somewhere between curiosity and something else. I don’t even know what it is.
I narrow my eyes as he shifts, clearly unaware I’m observing him. When he finally turns back to the girls, there’s a look on his face I don’t recognize. It’s not the usual easygoing Asher, the guy who stress-bakes cookies and jokes his way through tense situations. He’s troubled.
What the hell is going on?
It’s not hard to see why Mia might have everyone’s attention. She’s attractive, sure, but this is different. This job isn’t the first time we’ve worked a high-stakes case involving a beautiful woman. But none of us have ever been this... distracted. And that’s exactly what this is:a distraction.One that none of us can afford.
I glance back at the kitchen. Damon’s still with Mia. I’ve seen him handle all kinds of people before: diplomats, shady contractors, terrified civilians. He knows how to talk to people,but this? This is something else entirely. The way he’s watching her... it’s personal.
The twins’ laughter pulls my attention back to the yard. Emma is attempting another dramatic roll while Ella critiques her form. Asher kneels, encouraging them, but I catch the flicker of distraction in his eyes. Whatever he saw in that kitchen has him off his game.
“Agent Zane!” Emma’s voice rings out, full of excitement. She’s crouched in a mock ninja pose, her hands balled into tiny fists. “Come teach us ninja moves!”
I should say no. Should keep my distance, keep things professional. But instead, I hear myself saying, “Alright, but only for a minute.”
Her face lights up like she just won a prize. Ella glances up from her notebook, her serious little brow furrowed as if analyzing the situation. “Do ninjas take notes, too?” she asks, holding up her crayon-scrawled paper.
“They absolutely do,” I reply, crouching to their level. “How else would they remember all the secret ninja rules?”
Emma giggles and bounces on her toes while Ella carefully nods like I’ve just handed her classified information.
I show them a basic defensive stance, something useful disguised as play. “Okay, feet apart, knees slightly bent,” I instruct, adjusting Emma’s positioning. “Hands up to protect your face.”
Emma gives a dramatic “Hi-yah!” and punches the air. Ella imitates her but with more precision, her small fists steady in front of her.
“You’re natural ninjas,” I say, stepping back. “But remember, a good ninja never picks a fight. Rule one: stay aware and stay safe.”
Emma pauses mid-kick to beam up at me. “Like you, Agent Zane? You keep people safe, right?”
Something about her innocence hits me square in the chest. I clear my throat. “That’s right,” I manage, forcing a smile. “Now, let’s see if you two can sneak up on Secret Agent Asher.”
They both gasp with delight and take off across the yard, whispering loud enough to scare away birds. Asher turns just in time to pretend he’s startled, raising his hands in mock surrender as they “capture” him.
I stand there, watching them laugh and chase each other, and feel a knot tightening in my chest. I shouldn’t have done this. Should’ve kept my distance like I planned. But when Emma looked up at me like that, like I was some kind of hero… how the hell was I supposed to say no?
In the makeshift security office we’ve set up in the den, Damon leans over the table, outlining our rotation schedule. Maps and blueprints of the property are pinned to the walls, along with surveillance feeds running on the monitors. He’s all business, his tone clipped as he gestures to different points on the map.
“We need eyes on all approaches,” Damon says. “No blind spots. If Jason makes a move, we’re going to see it coming.”
I lean back in my chair, arms crossed. Damon’s acting like he’s fully in control, but there’s something off. And I need to figure out what he’s hiding.
“So,” I say, keeping my tone casual, “what’s the deal with you and Mia? You’ve got history, don’t you?”
He slowly turns around to look at me. “She’s our client. That’s all you need to know.”
Bullshit. I know deflection when I hear it. Damon’s too composed, too controlled. It’s obvious he doesn’t want to talk about it, which only makes me more curious.
“Right,” I say, pushing a little harder. “Because it doesn’t seem like just business. Not with the way you look at her.”
