Chapter 1

I was uncharacteristically nervous. Uncharacteristic in the sense I didn't get nervous—not ever. Showing fear or uncertainty got someone like me dead.

This was not the first time I was being escorted into a meeting with powerful men. Nor was this the first time I was going into an unknown situation.

Yet none of those men were as dangerous or unpredictable as Zane Lewis.

Perhaps it was the hours of silence. No, I was used to that; criminals didn't tend to chitchat before a sit-down.

Maybe it was because I'd opted for casual. That had to be it; my jeans and flip flops were throwing me off my game. The normal clicking of my heels on the tile was absent—weirdly, sound centered me before I faced down the filth I normally sat across from.

Theo Jackson stopped to place his hand on a fingerprint scanner. As I waited I looked around the empty reception area. The space was oddly bland—a typical receptionist's desk that, from my view, didn't look like it had anything on it but a phone. A boring two-seater leather couch, two chairs, and two end tables. No signage above the desk. No magazines to read while you waited. There wasn't even a plant to liven up the room.

Nothing in the room gave away this was the Z Corps office.

But what struck me as odd was the lack of an elevator. We'd come in from the garage by way of stairs and there was no elevator in there either.

A car honking drew my attention to the street. Large, framed plates of thick glass on either side of a glass door gave an unobstructed view outside.

"Polycarbonate ballistic windows," Easton Spears weirdly stated.

"I'm sorry?"

"They're bulletproof."

Of course they are.

I didn't get to respond—not that I had anything to say about bullet proof windows—before Theo opened the door. Easton wordlessly gestured for me to enter the hallway. For the first time since Zane's men had picked me up, real apprehension curled in my belly. I was well aware I was unarmed and entering a windowless hallway with two very big men. For some reason being in a plane with them hadn't felt this concerning, neither had the silent car rides we'd taken to and from the airport.

But here, in this tight space, there was no escape. No one to help me. No weapon on my person to defend myself with.

I tried to remember my father's earnest expression and the relief I heard in his voice when he explained his plan. He'd said Zane's call to him had been serendipitous and was the in we'd needed. That might've been true, but I wasn't feeling the same relief my father was feeling. There was too much at stake. Too much that could go wrong. If I didn't maneuver this just right everything would implode and I would be the cause of it. One wrong move and I could be the Yoko Ono of Z Corps.

My last call with Maddon had been subterfuge except the part about Zane. Fudging the truth with a man like Zane wasn't the right way to go about this. Keeping secrets from him from afar was one thing—up close and sitting across from him was entirely different.

This was not a good idea.

We stopped in front of an elevator. Theo turned and pointed to the scanner on the wall.

"Place your hand on the screen."

The guy obviously didn't like me, not that I could blame him. He thought my father posed a threat to his fiancée Bridget Keller. That was the flaw in my father's plan. We should've come clean. I should've requested a meeting with Zane so I could come clean and tell him the truth. Keeping up appearances would do me no favors.

"Why?" I asked.

"New protocol." He pinned me with his dark gaze. "No one enters the office without their fingerprints on file."

I held his stare and asked, "And if I say no?"

"Then we take you back to the airport and send you home," he said like it was all the same to him.

That sounded like a much better idea and if Maddon wasn't selling information to the Chinese I would've told Theo to take me back to the airport.

Reluctantly I placed my hand on the scanner.

A moment later a green light flashed.

"You're good."

That wasn't surprising. My fingerprints wouldn't give them anything I didn't want them to know.

I removed my hand. Theo touched the same screen. Moved to another scanner higher up on the wall and leaned forward.

"Retina scanner," Easton unnecessarily explained.

The elevator door slid open and again Easton waved me on to precede him. And again I was bracketed in by two men who didn't like me or my father.

Wasn't the first time and I was positive it wouldn't be the last.

Thankfully the stifling ride was short.

The door opened and much to my surprise the top floor was nothing like the bland downstairs reception area. The cavernous space had an industrial vibe with a bent for chrome accents. But what caught my attention was the large enclosure in the middle. The smoked glass made it impossible to see in. The obstruction seemed out of place in the center of the large room.

"This way," Theo directed before I finished my perusal.

The next room we entered was different from both the reception area and what I assumed was the main office. The conference room was a mix of high tech and luxury. A large flat-screen hung on the far wall. A long credenza with crystal decanters, a silver ice bucket, and other accessories took up the wall to my right. I recognized the hand-carved doors of the cabinet and knew it cost a mint. The wall to my left housed a well-appointed coffee station. But it was the monstrous table in the middle of the room that held my attention. I quickly counted eighteen chairs. Though only six were currently occupied.

Patheon.

So the rumors were true. All of Patheon was now working with Z Corps. It struck me then how much I didn't know about the man who paid my salary.

Interesting but not surprising seeing as Zane's intel specialist Garrett Davis had been on a CIA Ground Branch team with Jonas Lang, Smith Everette, Cash Phillips, and Easton Spears. Though sometime in the last ten years since they'd left, the Central Intelligence Agency had renamed GB to Ground Division.

To complete the Patheon team sitting at the table was former CIA case officer Layla Monroe, although when she'd worked at the Agency she was Layla Cunnings. This actually gave me hope. Seeing former Agency at the table meant Zane might be open to my cause. Next to Layla sat Kira Cain, formerly Kira Winters.

And finally, sitting at the head of the table was none other than the man himself. Zane Lewis.

The moment Zane's piercing gaze landed on me, my heart rate ticked up until it was rabbiting in my chest. I realized I'd been wrong.

The time was not ripe. I should've gone with my gut and kept my distance.

Damn my father for putting me in this situation.

"Miss Michaels," Layla started. "Please have a seat."

I felt a hand touch my lower back. The touch was unexpected. My reaction unfortunate. I jolted, giving away more than I wanted. I knew better than to show weakness in a room full of predators.

Regrettably Zane didn't miss my tremble.

"Nervous?" he drawled from his place at the head of the table.

The viper king sitting on his throne waiting to command his snakes to bite.

Powerful men can smell weakness, Nebraska. You have to own every room you walk into.

I straightened my shoulders, plastered my well-practiced fake smile on my face, moved to the nearest empty chair, and ignored his question.

"Thank you for seeing me."

"Your father didn't give me much of a choice," he returned as he picked up a tablet from the desk.

That was a stretch.

"Forgive me for saying so, but that's not exactly the truth, is it? You don't strike me as a man who makes a deal because you were forced into it."

He waited until I sat and adjusted my bag to rest in my lap before he dealt his death blow.

"You're correct. I could've saved us all the trouble and the expense of sending my jet and simply had your father taken out. And make no mistake, Nebraska, that option is still on the table."

That was not the first threat against my father's life I'd heard. Though it might've been the most credible. I'd long ago learned to lock the fear those intimidations caused away in a box I only opened when I was alone. Those were the only times when I admitted to myself how truly scared I was. The rest of the time, I played my part. I did what my father needed me to do.

Charlie Michaels deserved my loyalty.

I remained silent as Theo handed the thumb drive my father had given him over to Kira before he sat to Zane's right. The woman was the brains behind the facial recognition software called Patheon—not to be confused with the team of men who had operated in the shadows under the same name. She plugged the thumb drive into her laptop.

Easton pulled out a chair, leaving one empty between us. But instead of sitting closer to his team he stayed near the door.

There would be no quick escape from the room.

The large screen behind Zane flickered to life. Neatly arranged file folders from the thumb drive appeared on the monitor. Everyone's gaze except Zane's went to the screen. He kept his on his tablet.

Until his blue eyes tipped up and narrowed on me.

"I think it's time you explain why you're really here, Nebraska."

Indeed, it was time.

Too bad I couldn't tell the whole truth without exposing a secret Zane would rather keep buried.

I just prayed my father hadn't made a mistake.