Page 116 of Crossfire

My world crashed down around me because, evidently, I’d let the enemy in my bed.

The sweet taste of her sex lingered on my tongue, a haunting reminder of the intimacy we had shared, the trust I had placed in her.

How could I have been so foolish? This felt like fucking acid burning my muscles, our tender moments now tainted with bitter truth.

Tears stung as the poisonous reality infected every morsel of my being.

When Daniel’s voice went silent, I knew that beneath his frustration, he felt bad for me, not only for having my heart toyed with, but also for what had to be done.

He cleared his throat, his tone full of sympathy. “Do you need me to find another operative to take care of her?”

Take care of her.Oh my God, I think it was the first time that it hit me—Ivy was going to die for this. All along, I’d known that if she was proven guilty, that was the outcome, of course. But I’d been so certain of her innocence, I didn’t think it would actually happen.

My heart wanted to scream that I knew her, evidence be dammed. It wanted to save her life, help her escape her fate.

But that was absurd, sick, and twisted.

Right?

Because…this evidence—photos, bank transactions, and communications between her and Ivan Vosch—there was no denying the truth.

It didn’t feel real, but I suppose the road to acceptance would be long and painful, a journey fraught with doubt, anger, and heartbreak. With the undeniable truth staring back at me, right now, I needed to focus on protecting innocent lives.

Daniel waited for an answer as I sat here, numb and broken.

“No.” I couldn’t imagineanyoneending her life, but I couldn’t bear the thought of anyone else being the one to do it. This was my mission, my responsibility, and my betrayal to bear.

“I’ll take care of it,” I said, trying to sound confident.

I could.

I would.

Right?

“Grayson…”

Daniel must’ve heard the emotional turmoil in my voice—more specifically, my immense hesitation. My uncertainty.

I didn’t get into the CIA to let dangerous criminals murder people, I reminded myself.Ivy might look sweet, but you need to see her for who she really is.

“I’ll do it.” I kept my voice more even this time, more convincing.

“You sure?”

No. Killing a woman was bad enough. Ending Ivy…holy shit.How the hell would I go through with this?

“I’m sure.”

“Good. Because we have a lot on our plate and convincing you to follow orders isn’t something that can happen again.”

Guilt ripped up my insides, followed by mortification. She’d humiliated me in front of my boss.

“I understand.”

“Now”—Daniel cleared his throat—“there’s something else.”

What else could there be? Did she have a side hustle of torturing puppies?

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