Chapter 1

As a spy, I spent three years undercover in the Golden Triangle — and finally, the extraction signal came from my handler and boyfriend. Five minutes. That's all it would take for us to go home together.

Then his voice cut through my earpiece, cold as ice: "Plan B. I have to go save 'Nightingale' — she's been compromised. She's my ex-girlfriend."

"Stay under. Your cover's still intact. You're safe."

I snapped the earpiece in two, walked over to the drug lord I'd just hog-tied, and spoke to him in a language he'd understand. "Let's make a deal. I'll take out your competition."

The air was thick with the smell of blood and wet earth.

My name is Vivian. I'm a top operative for The Apex intelligence organization. Codename: Mockingbird.

I'd been undercover for three full years in the most dangerous stretch of rainforest in the Golden Triangle.

Today was the day it all came together.

Spread across the clearing in front of me were a dozen of Hector's men. All of them dealt with.

And Hector himself — one of the three most powerful drug lords in the Golden Triangle, my primary target — was bound tight against a tree with specialized rope.

The look in his eyes was pure terror and confusion.

He couldn't understand it. The woman he'd trusted most, who'd been by his side for a year, had turned on him without warning — and done it with terrifying precision.

I ignored his stare and glanced at my watch.

Five minutes until the scheduled extraction.

My boyfriend, Zane — also the commanding officer on this operation — would arrive at the rendezvous point in five minutes with his team. He'd take me and Hector out together.

Then we'd go home.

I ran my thumb over the plain steel band on my ring finger, feeling calm.

Zane had given it to me three years ago. He said once I finished this mission, he'd replace it with a real ring.

Static crackled in my earpiece. Then Zane's voice came through.

"Vivian, do you copy?"

"Copy," I answered. My voice was rough from years of keeping it in check.

"Nice work. Stick to the original plan — meet at Point A in five minutes."

"Understood."

I watched Hector. He seemed to catch something from my earpiece. The despair on his face was immediate.

Everything was going exactly as planned.

But just as I reached up to cut the comm, Zane's voice came back. There was something in it I'd never heard before — hesitation. Conflict.

"Wait — Vivian."

My stomach dropped.

"Headquarter just sent through an emergency alert. Nightingale's cover is blown. She's in danger, trapped inside Victor's territory."

Nightingale.

Roxie.

Zane's ex-girlfriend.

I didn't say anything. I just listened.

The air felt like it had stopped moving.

"I have to go get her." Zane's voice went cold and flat. "She's my ex. I owe her."

I laughed. Silently, to myself.

So being an ex-girlfriend outweighed the life of a current one.

"What about us?" I asked. My voice came out quiet.

"Vivian, listen to me." There was an edge of impatience in his tone now. "You're safe right now. Your cover hasn't been blown. Hector's already neutralized. All you have to do is stay under and wait for new orders."

Safe?

I looked around at the bodies scattered across the ground, then back at Hector, who was glaring at me with pure hatred.

He was telling me I was safe — here, in the middle of a drug lord's compound, seconds after a firefight.

"This is an order." All emotion drained from Zane's voice. "Execute Plan B."

Plan B.

A plan he'd never once mentioned to me.

A plan built around rescuing his ex-girlfriend — with me as the acceptable loss.

I didn't give him the chance to say another word.

I reached up and pulled the tiny earpiece free, inch by inch, slow and deliberate.

Then, while Hector watched in stunned silence, I took that small device — the one that had carried every order, every promise, every piece of my loyalty — and snapped it clean in half.

The line went dead.

I walked over to Hector, crouched down, and met his wary, searching eyes head-on.

I spoke in the local dialect — the one he'd grown up with, the one that left no room for misunderstanding — one word at a time.

"Hector. Let's make a deal."

"I'll take out your competition. Victor."