Page 10 of Rogue Doll

“For fuck’s sake,” Killion barked, glaring at me like I’d just pissed in his cornflakes. “What is wrong with you?”

I arch an eyebrow, sitting up straight, hitting him with a glare of my own. “What? Mission accomplished, parameters exceeded. I deserved a little fun. Besides, the more... memorableI made the encounter, the less likely he'd be to question what information he might have shared during our little pillow talk."

His jaw tightens. "The psychological suggestion wasn't in your brief."

"The mother thing?" I shrug, examining my nails like they're suddenly fascinating. "Consider it a bonus. Insurance policy. He tries to come after us, we leak his new mommy fetish. His reputation's toast before the stock market opens."

Killion's eyes narrow to slits. In the fluorescent glare, his face looks carved from granite, all hard angles and cold calculation. "You compromised operational parameters for a personal fuck-you?"

"I improvised," I correct him, holding his gaze. "Isn't that what you trained me for? Adapting to the situation?"

"I trained you to follow orders."

"You trained me to succeed."

Behind him, Sienna's mouth twitches—the ghost of a smile, there and gone so fast I might have imagined it. But I didn't. She's amused. Interesting.

Killion slams his palm on the table, the sharp crack echoing through the sterile room. "This isn't a fucking game, Landry."

"Of course it is," I fire back, leaning forward, my voice dropping to a dangerous purr. "It's the highest-stakes game there is. And I just proved I'm very, very good at it."

He's on his feet now, looming over me like a storm cloud, all barely contained violence and cold control. "You think you're special? Irreplaceable? There are a dozen more like you—women with your skills, your profile, your particular... pathologies."

"Bullshit," I laugh, the sound sharp as broken dreams. "If there were a dozen more like me, you wouldn't be so pissed I went off-script. You'd just liquidate me and slot in the next desperate housewife with boundary issues."

Sienna makes a noise—something between a cough and a laugh—and Killion whips his head around to glare at her.

"Something to add, Agent?"

She straightens, face instantly professional, but I catch the glint in her eyes. "Just that perhaps we should focus on the intel. The operation was successful, despite"—she glances at me—"creative flourishes."

Killion's nostrils flare. He's furious, but he's calculating too. Cost-benefit analysis playing behind those cold eyes. I was right, and he knows it. Mission success trumps method.

"Reese accessed the Nexus Holdings server at 12:38 AM," he finally says, turning back to me. "The data you extracted confirmed our suspicions. He's laundering money for high-value targets including?—"

The door bangs open, cutting him off. A suited analyst rushes in, face pale, clutching a tablet. "Sir, there's been a complication."

Killion stiffens. "What kind of complication?"

"Victor Reese is dead."

The words drop like a bomb. My blood turns to slush.

"What the fuck?" I breathe. "That's impossible. The drug doesn't?—"

"Not the drug," the analyst interrupts, swiping through screens. "Gunshot wound to the head. Hotel security found him thirty minutes ago."

Silence crushes the room. Then everyone moves at once.

Killion's on the analyst, grabbing the tablet. Sienna's on her phone, barking orders. And I'm frozen, processing. Victor Reese, the man I fucked into oblivion six hours ago, is a cooling corpse.

"Blackout debrief," Killion barks, his voice cutting through the chaos erupting around us.

Two armed operatives materialize at the door like summoned demons. Sienna's already moving, tapping commands into a wall-mounted panel. The lights shift from sterile white to blood red, casting everyone's faces in crimson shadows. Somewhere, an alarm wails, then dies—strangled mid-scream.

"What's happening?" I ask, but no one answers.

They hustle me down a corridor I've never seen before, deeper into the facility's guts. No windows, no cameras, nothing but bare concrete and steel doors with electronic locks that require Killion's palm, retina, and a six-digit code that changes every hour.

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