Page 17 of Hero Worship

"This level of undercover work requires adequate preparation," he stated, pulling up another image. A woman in her early forties with platinum blonde hair and razor-sharp cheekbones, wearing head-to-toe black leather. She looked like she'd stepped straight off a magazine cover, which made sense given that she probably had.

All the color drained from Ash's face. "Absolutely not."

"Zara Novak," Algerone announced with mechanical precision. "Her industry credentials are extensive. She has agreed to provide the necessary training. Her previous marriage to Valentine will add authenticity to the cover."

"You were married?" I stared at Ash in disbelief. "To her?"

"Does that surprise you?" The edge in his voice made me shiver. "What, you thought I spent my whole life alone?"

Of course he'd had a life before me. Of course there had been others. Beautiful, successful others who probably didn't need constant validation or try to self-destruct every time something got hard.

"Training begins tomorrow," Algerone stated. "Your performance on this operation will be evaluated according to standard metrics. Failure is not an acceptable outcome."

His meaning was clear. This wasn't about family or pride. This was about assets performing their assigned functions.

"I can handle it," I said, shooting Ash my most provocative smile. "Question is, can Daddy here keep up?"

Ash's eyes darkened dangerously, but before he could respond, Algerone was already walking out, execution orders delivered.

The door clicked shut behind him.

My eyes tracked Ash's movements as he paced the length of the room, tension radiating from every line of his body. The revelation about Zara had cracked something in his carefully maintained facade. I could see it in the way his shoulders had tightened, the barely controlled violence in each step. There was history there, deep and painful, written in the scars he tried so hard to hide.

I wanted to ask him about her, about their marriage, about all the pieces of his past that made him who he was. But the words wouldn't come out. Instead, I found myself cataloging the details of his face, searching for traces of the man who had lovedher. Who had built a life with her before something went wrong enough to bring him here, to this moment, with me.

The contrast between us was almost laughable. She was everything I wasn't: polished, professional, probably stable enough to maintain a real relationship. The kind of person who didn't need to be constantly reminded to take their meds or talked down from emotional spirals. The kind of person who could give him what he needed without turning it into another cry for attention.

But maybe that was why it hadn't worked out. Maybe what he needed wasn't perfection, but someone who understood what it meant to be beautifully broken. Someone who could match his craving with their own.

"So..." I broke first, unable to handle the tension. "Spouse, huh? Should I start picking out matching china?" The word felt right in my mouth. Not husband, not wife, but a partner. Even in a cover marriage, I refused to be boxed into binary roles. "Though I guess we'll have to play it traditional in public, won't we? At least until we're in Roche's inner circle where the queerness becomes an asset rather than a liability."

"This isn't a fucking game." Ash's voice was low and dangerous as he advanced on me, backing me up against the wall. "One wrong move and this whole operation falls apart. So you better get your shit together real quick, princess. Because starting tomorrow? The real training begins."

I swallowed hard, caught between fear and arousal as he caged me in. "Yes, sir."

His eyes flashed at the title, and for a second I thought he might actually kiss me. Instead, he stepped back, leaving me cold and aching. "Get some rest. You're going to need it."

I watched him walk away, already missing the heat of his body against mine. Between the mission, the marriage cover, and whatever this thing was between us, I was walking straightinto the kind of emotional storm my BPD brain both craved and feared. The kind that could either give me everything I'd ever wanted or destroy me completely.

But maybe that was the point. After all, destruction had always been my favorite form of foreplay.

The training room feltsmaller with Zara in it. Watching my ex-wife circle Xander like a shark sizing up prey stirred up all kinds of complicated feelings that I didn't know how to categorize.

"Again," she commanded, her platinum hair catching the fluorescent lights as she adjusted Xander's posture. "You're not some club twink looking for daddy's attention. You're a weapon. Move like one."

My jaw clenched at her choice of words, but I caught the knowing look she shot me in the mirror. Zara had always seenright through my defenses, even before she'd figured out her own truth. Maybe especially then.

Xander's reflection stared back at us as they repeated the runway walk, their hips swaying. The crop top and compression shorts left little to the imagination, showing off lean muscle that spoke of years of serious training. He moved like sex and danger wrapped in one pretty package, and he knew it.

"Better," Zara approved, circling him with professional precision. "But you're still telegraphing desperation. These men need to think they're pursuing you, not the other way around. Make them work for it."

I caught the way Xander's eyes flickered to me in the mirror, seeking validation. Christ. How was it this kid had me ready to snap after one heated glance?

Zara caught the exchange and something softened in her expression. She waited until Xander was focused on his form before sliding over to me.

"He reminds me of myself at that age," she murmured, keeping her voice low. "All that need for validation wrapped up in a pretty package. Desperate to be seen." Her eyes met mine, understanding rather than judgment in their depths. "Scared of wanting things they've been told they shouldn't want."

"Zara," I warned, but there was no heat in it. We'd been through too much together for me to really be angry at her insight.

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