Zara Cruz's POV.
There's a moment in every mission when you ask yourself the question no spy is supposed to ask.
> What if this isn't just the mission anymore?
For me, that moment came at 4:37 a.m., in a dimly lit hotel suite in Maui, with intel sprawled across the floor and Leo Thompson sitting too close, shirtless and suspiciously irresistible.
We were supposed to be working.
We were supposed to be focused.
But every time our hands brushed while analyzing encrypted prints, my brain stopped spelling "danger" and started spelling "kiss him."
Terrible idea.
I've resisted poison, torture, bullets, and falling off a train in Istanbul. But Leo?
Leo was a whole different kind of weapon.
"I can feel you staring," he said, without looking up from the screen.
"I'm watching your cursor."
"You're watching my abs."
"Please," I scoffed. "I've seen better on a department store mannequin."
His mouth twitched into a smirk. "Sure you have."
He leaned back on the couch, stretching like a lazy panther. The glow from the laptop lit his cheekbones in the dark. His dog tag glinted under the loose collar of his shirt.
We were both tired. Running on caffeine, adrenaline, and sexual tension you could cut with a machete.
"Zara," he said suddenly, voice low. "There's something I need to ask you."
I braced. "Ask."
"That capsule in the coconut—" He turned toward me fully. "It wasn't addressed to Viktor. It was addressed to someone code-named Opal Fox. Ring any bells?"
My blood turned to ice.
Because that was me.
Opal Fox. The name I hadn't heard since Prague. The name only two people in the world were supposed to know.
I stood, pretending to stretch. "Never heard of it."
He narrowed his eyes. "You sure?"
"Yep."
He leaned in. "Zara…"
"Don't," I warned. "Not tonight."
But his eyes were already searching me. "Are you keeping secrets from me?"
I laughed bitterly. "We're spies, Leo. Secrets are what we do."
"But not from each other."
"Since when?" I snapped. "Since the day we fake-kissed on a dance floor or since we started sharing toothpaste and trauma?"
He stared at me. "Since the moment I realized you're not just part of this op. You're the reason it exists."
And just like that…
The walls cracked.
<<<<<
Leo Thompson's POV.
I shouldn't have pushed her.
But I couldn't stop.
Because Zara Cruz wasn't just some random agent sent here to sniff out a cartel. She was deep in this — deeper than me. And she wasn't telling me the whole truth.
I'd seen the file. Opal Fox. CIA's ghost-level handler. She wasn't the rookie on this op.
She was the architect.
"I don't know what they told you," she said, voice tight, "but I'm not your enemy."
"Then tell me the truth," I said, standing. "Why are they using my name in kill orders meant for you?"
She looked away.
"Zara…"
"I was assigned this op because I helped design it." Her voice shook. "And I lied to you because I had to. I didn't know who I could trust."
"And now?"
She looked up. "I don't know anymore."
I took a step closer. "Do you trust me?"
Silence. Her lips parted.
And then—
She kissed me.
But it wasn't like before.
It wasn't strategy.
It wasn't cover.
It was real.
<<<<<
Zara's POV.
The second our lips met, the world went quiet. No bombs. No betrayal. No missions.
Just him.
His mouth was warm, firm, and demanding. His hands gripped my waist like he'd been waiting for this moment since the day I stepped off the plane. I let my hands explore his back — strong, scarred, and honest in ways most people never are.
It was messy. Hot. Reckless.
And very real.
He pulled back just slightly, breath ragged. "We can't do this."
I kissed him again. "We already are."
Later — after the storm passed and my head stopped spinning — I slipped into his shirt and stared out the balcony at the moonlit water.
"This doesn't change anything," I whispered.
He came up behind me, arms around my waist. "It changes everything."
We stayed there for a while.
Until his phone buzzed.
A text. Untraceable.
> "The mole is closer than you think. Room 705."
I blinked. Room 705? That was…
"Oh no," I gasped.
Leo grabbed his gun. "Who?"
My voice trembled.
"Penelope. My backup agent. She's the mole."
<<<<<
Leo's POV.
We raced through the hallway, adrenaline boiling.
Room 705.
Penelope — the agent Zara trusted. Her friend. Her shadow.
I kicked the door open.
Empty.
No signs of struggle. No signs of life.
Except—
Zara gasped. "Her comms—" She picked up Penelope's earpiece off the floor, crushed.
There was a note on the bed.
Scrawled in red lipstick:
> "She trusted the wrong side. You're next."
Zara went pale. "They got her. They knew."
"Which means someone inside the agency sold us out."
<<<<<
Zara's POV.
I thought I had time.
I thought I had control.
But now the cartel wasn't just one step ahead — they were inside the operation.
They knew my name. My room. My backup.
And now, they knew about Leo.
I looked at him. "We're running out of options."
He nodded. "Then we stop running."
And just like that…
The hunt turned personal.