The blonde woman's eyes held no fear, no hesitation. She stood in the center of Henri's study like she belonged there, like she'd been watching from the shadows long before Elena even entered the Castellanos world.
"Sit," the woman ordered.
Elena didn't move. "Start talking."
The woman nodded with an almost amused smile. "You're fiery. That's good. You'll need it. My name is Rhea. I worked for your mother."
"I don't have a mother," Elena snapped. "She died when I was ten."
Rhea stepped closer. "No. That's what they told you. What he told you."
"Elena?"
A new voice—deep, groggy—sounded behind her.
Henri.
Elena spun around. He stood in the hallway shirtless, jaw clenched, pistol in hand. His eyes darted between Elena and Rhea.
"Step away from her," he barked at the woman.
Rhea raised her hands slowly. "Relax, Castellanos. If I wanted her dead, I'd have done it while you were drooling in your sleep."
"Rhea," Henri muttered, lowering his gun a fraction. "You're alive."
Elena's world spun.
"You know her?" she demanded.
Henri's eyes met hers. "She disappeared five years ago. Everyone thought she was dead."
"And you didn't think to tell me that the quiet, suspicious maid in your house was a dead woman?"
"I didn't know until now," he said. "We all thought she'd been killed after the Santiago Raid."
"Not killed," Rhea said. "Recruited."
She turned to Elena. "Primrose wasn't just a name, Elena. It was a codename. Your mother, Celeste Cruz—codename Primrose—was one of the founders of The Guild."
Elena blinked. "The what?"
Rhea stepped toward the window, pulling the curtains slightly to glance outside. "A secret intelligence network. Operated outside of law, politics, and morality. They had one mission: protect information that could collapse nations."
Elena's mouth went dry. "My mother was... a spy?"
"She was more than that," Rhea said. "She was the best. The Guild's heartbeat. And she had a secret."
Henri's voice was quiet now. "You."
Elena turned sharply toward him. "You knew?"
"I suspected. That's why I protected you," he said. "Even when I didn't want to."
"You used me," she hissed. "Just like my father. Just like everyone else."
Rhea crossed her arms. "She needs to see it."
Henri gave a tense nod.
Rhea pulled a black envelope from her jacket, tossing it onto the desk.
Elena opened it with trembling fingers.
Inside were documents—birth certificates, aliases, Guild mission briefings… all with one name.
Celeste Cruz.
At the bottom of the folder, there was a photograph. Elena's mother, younger, wearing a red dress, holding baby Elena in her arms—with blood on her shoulder and a gun tucked beneath the blanket.
Henri stepped closer. "Your mother disappeared when you were ten because she had to. There was a hit placed on her by her own team. The Guild fractured. She faked her death and left you with your father—the one man she hoped she could trust."
"But he wasn't loyal," Rhea said. "Senator Cruz sold your mother out."
Elena gripped the edge of the desk to steady herself. "So what now?"
Rhea's eyes gleamed. "Now? We find your mother. And we end the traitors."
The next morning, Elena barely slept.
Henri brewed coffee in silence, his eyes barely meeting hers as they sat on the veranda.
"I don't know who I am anymore," she said finally, staring into her cup.
"I do," he replied. "You're Elena Cruz. The one woman who keeps outsmarting me."
"You let me believe Matteo abandoned me."
"I let you believe a lot of things."
She looked up, her voice sharp. "Why?"
Henri set his mug down and leaned in close. "Because when I met you, I saw fire. But fire can be dangerous when it doesn't know its own strength. I needed to wait. Protect you from what you didn't know."
"You don't get to decide what I know."
He chuckled softly. "You really are her daughter."
Something in his tone cracked her anger just a little.
Henri stood, walking to the edge of the balcony. "Your mother saved my life once. I owed her. I guess I hoped protecting you would repay that debt."
"Is that the only reason you married me?"
He turned to face her fully now. "No."
His voice dropped an octave.
"I married you because I've never wanted anything as recklessly, as stupidly, as selfishly as I want you."
Elena's breath caught.
He came closer.
"You make me want to burn everything down just to keep you warm."
She stood slowly, heart pounding. "You shouldn't say things like that."
"Why not?"
"Because I'll start believing you."
Henri's mouth brushed hers before she could speak again. His kiss was slow this time—dangerous in a different way. Not a war, but a promise. Her hands slid under his shirt, feeling the scars on his chest.
He broke the kiss just long enough to whisper, "Stay with me. Through this."
"I should run."
"Then run into me."
But downstairs, Rhea wasn't watching romance.
She was staring at a screen—one Elena hadn't seen.
A live feed from the Santiago compound.
A shadow moved through the hall.
The voice on the intercom was unmistakable.
Matteo.
"She's beginning to remember," he said to someone off-camera. "Good. Let her. The more she knows, the faster she'll break away from him."
"And when she does?" asked a deep, unfamiliar voice.
"Then we strike."
"And her mother?"
Matteo's voice lowered to a growl.
"Celeste Cruz dies. This time for good."
Rhea stood still, then pressed a button on the console, activating a secure line.
"She's in deeper than we thought," she said into the receiver. "And they're getting closer."
A pause.
Then a voice replied, distorted through encryption.
"Initiate Project Orchid. It's time she learns what her mother really did."