Page 12 of The Pursuit
As soon as she got my father’s warning, Trisha pulled away. That very night, she left for Malaysia, halfway across the world from me, chasing a lead for her drug cartel’s case. But we both knew the truth. She was putting distance between us on purpose. After what my father said, she saw the risk in getting closer and made the choice to retreat back to business. And just like that, the spell was broken.
Now, here I sat on this plane, staring blankly out the window, sipping the champagne which turned bitter in my mouth. She slipped away before I could speak to her or even meet her eyes. And it ached—goddamn, it ached—like a hole in my chest.
But I had no right to feel hurt. Trisha did the responsible thing for both of us. She rededicated herself to the job, to GLEN, and I had to respect her decision, as much as it stung.
With a heavy sigh, I turned from the window. I couldn’t change how she felt. All I could do was follow her lead and refocus on my role at work. That was the life we had chosen. Anything and everything else would have to wait.
Six months Later
Six months had passed since I’d seen or spoken to Trisha, since she flew off into the night, putting her mission first.
I returned to Austria, but I’d kept tabs on her from afar through my team. Her accomplishments were impressive—she’d gotten closer than anyone to unravelling the powerful drug cartel she’d been tracking ever since she joined GLEN.
But her methods made me uneasy. Going undercover, she had infiltrated the organisation by posing as the girlfriend of Max, the ringleader’s younger brother. It was dangerous work, putting her at constant risk if her cover was blown.
And the longer she kept up with this act, the more inevitable it seemed that she would have to get... closer to Max. A nauseating but logical step to gain his trust and get information. The thought twisted my gut and filled me with frustration.
I knew it shouldn’t matter. This was all part of the job. And Trisha was smart and capable of handling herself. Yet, it disturbed me. I couldn’t get the image out of my head—her with him. Laughing at his jokes, letting him put his arm around her waist, kissing her.My Trisha.
No, not mine.I gave up that right long ago. I’d stayed away. I’d respected her space and her dedication to this mission above all else. Even if it had eaten me up inside these six months.
I kept picturing our last moment together. Her silhouette in the doorway, hesitating as if she might turn back. But she didn’t. Trisha had just straightened her shoulders and walked away. Maybe by now, I was a distant memory for her. She’d moved on. She didn’t even think of me anymore. After all, she’d been fully committed to bringing down this cartel, no matter the cost.
And here I was, thousands of miles away from her, unable to shake her from my mind. I checked for updates about her obsessively, hating this helplessness that I couldn’t see her yet. There were times I really wished I could be there with her, watching her back and keeping her safe.But I gave up that thought, knowing Trisha needed to focus and deliver what she had chosen for herself—her first mission with GLEN. All I could do was wait and hope this mission ended soon, and that Trisha succeededin her goals.
TRISHA
I spotted him across the crowded pub, just like the intel said he’d be. Max, the handsome younger brother of the drug cartel kingpin I was tracking. He was my way in.
I made sure he noticed me, too, throwing flirtatious glances his way while pretending to sip my drink. I’d been told Max had a thing for red hair and had to change the colour of my hair to successfully complete this mission. It worked. I stood out as the only woman with red hair, enough for him to notice me. When he finally approached and asked if the seat beside me was taken, I flashed him my most charming smile.
“It is now,” I replied, giving him my most inviting smile.
We talked and laughed through the night, the alcohol lowering his defences. I steered the conversation, subtly pumping him for information while revealing just enough about myself to keep him intrigued.
By the end of the night, Max was smitten. But I left him wanting more, giving him only my first name and a fake number to remember me by. And that was enough.
Over the next weeks, I orchestrated more ‘chance’ encounters that were anything but. Every club, restaurant, and beach he visited, I’d be there, appearing out of the blue. Each time, the look in his eyes grew warmer.
He confessed it felt like fate, us meeting so often. It was just skillful manoeuvering on my part, carefullyplanned. But I smiled coyly, playing along like it was destiny. Each encounter brought new details about his brother’s operation. But Max was impatient and tried to get physically closer. I would redirect him charmingly, not giving too much too soon. This was a delicate dance, gaining his trust while keeping him at arm’s length. My gut churned with disgust at his touch and his hungry stares, but I had to sell this illusion.
Weeks turned into months. Max began to lower his guard, revealing key information he shouldn’t have—the tiny flat they use for packaging drugs, the delivery route through the jungle, his brother’s paranoia about being betrayed. He gave too much information, all so crucial for my team to catch his brother—the biggest drug cartel lord ‘Ron’.
I stored away all that information, piecing together a map of their organisation. But keeping Max interested without taking things further was getting harder. The hunger in his eyes had intensified, and soon, he would demand more than just flirting and light caresses. I knew I was running out of time before I had to disappear. The thought of his hands on me made my skin crawl. Just a little longer, I always told myself. I was so close—just a little more and I’d have enough to bring his brother down.
***************
Present Day
The music pulsed around me as I swayed half-heartedly on the dance floor. Max’s hand gripped my waist possessively as we moved to the beat. I forced a smile, appearing to enjoy his attention. Inside, my thoughts drifted miles away…To Krish.
It still surprised me how often he crept into my mind lately. A wry comment that would make him chuckle. A beautiful sunset I wished I could share with him. The ache of missing someone after so long alone. Did he ever think of me? Or had he moved on and forgotten our brief connection considering the gravity of his job role as Director of GLEN?
I replayed our last moment together, when I’d overheard his father’s warning. The awkward tension in the room. How I slipped away before Krish could stop me. My choice had felt so clear then—refocus on the work and don’t get distracted. Be the agent I was trained to be. But part of me had hoped Krish might defy his father and come after me. Tell me we would figure things out together. Instead, he let me go without a fight. Maybe it was for the best. This life made relationships impossible. I was here, undercover, and Krish was a world away. Wanting anything more was dangerous and irresponsible.
Still, some nights, I would curl up alone and imagine his face and his smile, and the comfort I felt just being near him. A sense of peace I had not known before or since enveloped me when I was with him. In the daylight, I buried those thoughts. But they would always return in the darkest hours, bittersweet reminders of what I could not have.
“You seem distracted tonight,” Max muttered, pulling me closer with greedy hands. I tensed, then forced myself to relax into his embrace.
