Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

HOPE

" G et him out of here," Hope shouted.

"Hope, take it easy," said Seth, lowering his voice and giving it the edge of command.

"Don't you pull that Dom voice shit on me. Get out, or I swear I'll fix it so you never father children."

"Hope…"

"Out!" Her tone was bordering on hysterical, but she didn't care. She needed him gone.

The door opened, and Robert Fitzwallace stepped into the room. Had he set this up? Probably. It was just the kind of interfering bullshit the man was known for.

"And I don't want you in here either, Fitz."

"That's enough, Hope," growled Fitzwallace.

"That's a matter of opinion," she said, grabbing her clothes and putting them on, stuffing her bra and panties into her purse. She leaned over to pull on her boots. "I'm warning you, Fitz, I'm leaving. Anyone gets in my way, and I will kick their balls so far up into their body cavity they'll never come down again."

There was a mild standoff between her and Fitzwallace. Realizing the best outcome he might achieve would be accomplished by getting out of her way, Fitz nodded. "Stand down, Seth. Ms. Pearson would prefer to leave. I don't think you should leave the club. I'm not convinced you're in the right state of mind to do so."

"Bullshit. I'm out of here," she said, pushing past Fitz and Seth.

"If you leave, you will be revoking your membership here," warned Fitz.

Hope paused in the doorway. "That's your decision, but it's moot. I will never play at any of your clubs again. Apparently, I was wrong to put my trust in any of you."

She stormed down the stairs and out of Baker Street, her footsteps quick and furious, her breath coming in short, sharp bursts. Once outside on the street, the cool London air did little to soothe the fiery rage within her. She pulled her coat tighter around her, not so much against the chill of the evening but as a futile attempt to contain the anger that simmered inside her. How could she have been so blind? How could she not have known?

The realization that Seth Newcomb had been the one to bind her, to push her to the edge of pleasure, and then over it, sent waves of humiliation crashing through her. She'd given herself over to him so completely, thinking she was in the capable hands of some anonymous Shibari master—someone who could unlock the part of her that craved the release only the ropes could bring. She felt a bitter taste rise in her throat at the memory of how easily she'd let go, how effortlessly she'd surrendered to the sensations he'd coaxed from her body.

And it had been Seth—the bastard. And Fitzwallace had set it up—the double bastard.

Her fists clenched as she remembered the way Seth had touched her, the way his fingers had moved over her skin with a familiarity that now felt like betrayal. All this time, she had kept her professional distance from him, knowing that the attraction simmering between them was dangerous, knowing that giving in could lead to complications neither of them could afford. Yet here she was, indulging in the one thing she had sworn she would never allow herself to do with him.

She hailed a cab, needing to put as much distance between herself and Baker Street as possible. As the vehicle pulled away, her thoughts drifted back to the job that had brought her here in the first place—the position of legal attaché at the U.S. Embassy in London. She had hoped the role would be a fresh start, an opportunity to put her skills to use in a new environment, but it had quickly become clear that the position was more about political maneuvering than hands-on crime-solving. It was all cocktail parties and diplomatic dinners, not the gritty, more intense work she was accustomed to.

It hadn't taken long for the disillusionment to set in. Within months, she had started to feel like a caged animal, confined to the polished halls of the embassy, her instincts dulled by the constant need to play nice with people whose motivations she neither trusted nor respected. The final straw came when she realized she was being used as a pawn in some larger political game, her skills being wasted on tasks that anyone could have done. It had felt like a set-up, the same kind of thing that had landed a Russian traitor in her care. One that Royce had found her with and immediately assumed the worst.

She was done. She would demand to be returned to the States and reinstated at Quantico, back to the FBI where she could be of actual use. If the Bureau wouldn't comply, she might finally take that meeting with the CIA. Hope missed the thrill of the hunt, the rush of adrenaline that came with cracking a case wide open, the satisfaction of knowing that her work was making a tangible difference.

There was no way for her to know that the reality of what awaited her was more complex than she had ever imagined.

FBI Headquarters

Quantico, Virginia

Present Day

Quantico's imposing structure loomed ahead as she pulled into the lot, its brutalist architecture as stern and unyielding as the people within. Hope stepped out, her heels clicking on the pavement as she made her way through the entrance, flashing her badge at the security checkpoint. First up this morning was a meeting with her boss, Special Agent in Charge Paul Dailey, who had hinted at a new assignment for her. Something big, he had said. Something that would need her specific set of skills.

She wasn't sure she liked the sound of that.

The elevator ride to Dailey's office was agonizingly slow, giving her too much time to think. Her sleep had been restless the night before, filled with images best forgotten. She tried to push away thoughts of Seth, of the way he had looked at her when the blindfold had come off, a mix of triumph and something else—something she didn't want to acknowledge. He was the last person she wanted to think about right now.

The doors slid open, and she stepped out into the hallway, forcing herself to focus on the task at hand. Dailey was waiting for her in his office, his expression unreadable as always. He gestured for her to sit as she entered, but she remained standing, too restless to sit still.

"Hope," Dailey began, his voice gruff, "We haven't had a lot of time to chat since you've been back. We've got a situation; one that requires your expertise.

"What kind of situation?" she asked, crossing her arms over her chest, her tone sharper than she intended. She was still on edge, and she needed to rein it in before it affected her judgment.

"A delicate one," he replied, leaning back in his chair. "You've done some excellent work in your codebreaker capacity. Your uncovering of the criminal organization operating here and abroad with ties to various individuals in the American government—military and possibly the CIA—have led us to where we are today. But we're missing a component—one connection we haven't been able to pinpoint. Someone within Cerberus."

Shit. The last thing she wanted or needed was to work with Cerberus. The shadowy organization that operated in the murkiest of waters, where black ops, national security, espionage, and criminal enterprises overlapped. If there was someone within Cerberus working against them, the implications were massive.

"I've hit a wall with the security and encryption levels," Hope admitted. "Whoever this Cerberus agent is, they're good. They've covered their tracks well."

"That's where you come in," Dailey said, his eyes narrowing slightly. "We need you to get inside. Get us what we need to unmask this agent and take down the criminal organization before they can execute their plans. We have reason to believe they're planning a mass terrorism event in the coming months."

Hope felt a chill run down her spine. This was bigger than she had anticipated. "You want me to go undercover," she stated, her voice flat.

Shit. It was just this kind of thing that had cost her dearly several years ago.

"Yes," Dailey confirmed. "You'll be going in deep. You'll need to infiltrate the organization and gain their trust. Your codebreaking skills and linguistic abilities make you the perfect candidate for this mission. On top of that, you have experience in the field."

Hope's mind raced. This was not what she had wanted. She had hoped to be back in the field, but this…this was something else entirely. "I'm not sure I'm the right person for this," she said carefully. "You know I prefer working from behind the scenes. I'm not a field agent anymore."

"You're more than capable," Dailey countered. "And you know it. We've also arranged for someone to assist you. Someone who can help you get inside, someone who knows the organization inside and out."

Hope's stomach twisted. "Who?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Dailey didn't answer immediately. Instead, he glanced at the door as if he were waiting for someone. A soft knock echoed through the room, and the door creaked open. Hope turned, her heart in her throat, as she saw him standing there.

Seth Newcomb.

Her first instinct was to say no. Hell no. She couldn't do this with him. Not after what had happened, not after the way he had deceived her. The room seemed to close in around her, her pulse hammering in her ears as she locked eyes with him. There was a tension in the air, a thick, heavy tension that neither of them could ignore.

"You have got to be kidding me," she said, her voice low and dangerous.

"I wish I were," Dailey said, not missing a beat. "But Seth is the best operative they have for this mission. He knows Cerberus better than anyone, and he's the only one with the clearance to work with you on this."

"Work with me?" Hope echoed, her eyes narrowing. "What exactly does that entail?"

"You'll be posing as a married couple," Dailey explained. "It's the perfect cover. It will give you a reason to be present at the events the organization hosts, and it will allow you to move within the circles we need you to infiltrate."

Hope's mind reeled. Married. To Seth. The very idea was absurd. And yet, as much as she wanted to refuse, as much as she wanted to walk out of that room and never look back, she knew she couldn't. The stakes were too high, the mission too important.

"You're asking a lot, Dailey," she said, her voice tight.

"I know," he replied, his tone softening slightly. "But this is bigger than any of us. We need you on this, Hope. And we need you to trust that Seth will have your back."

"But why me? And why him?"

"Because while I'm well known at Club Southside, that isn't the case for either of us at Baker Street, and both Fitz and the Bureau want to keep the circle as tight as possible. It is strictly need to know and no one outside of Fitz's inner circle will have a clue."

"What about personnel records?" she argued.

"Well, you aren't with Cerberus so you're good and access to personnel records is even more restrictive. There's not a snowball's chance in hell that the mole can get to them."

Trust. The word hung in the air between them, loaded with meaning. Trust was something that had been shattered between them, broken by the events of that night at Baker Street. And yet, here she was, being asked to trust him and Fitzwallace again, to rely on them in a way that went far beyond the professional.

She looked at Seth, searching his face for some sign of what he was thinking, of how he felt about all of this. But his expression was as unreadable as ever, his blue eyes guarded.

"I don't like this," she finally said, turning back to Dailey.

"You don't have to like it," Dailey replied, "but you do have to do it. This mission is critical, and you're the only one who can pull it off."

Hope swallowed hard, the weight of the responsibility settling heavily on her shoulders. She had never backed down from a challenge, and she wasn't about to start now. But this…this was going to test her in ways she hadn't anticipated.

"Fine," she said, her voice firm. "But if we're doing this, we're doing it my way."

Dailey nodded, clearly relieved by her agreement. "Of course. You'll have full control of the operation on the ground. Seth will follow your lead."

Not bloody likely, but then Daily didn't really understand the D/s dynamic. He couldn't possibly know how uncomfortable it would be for Seth to defer to her. As she considered it, Hope couldn't help the small smirk that tugged at her lips. The idea of Seth taking orders from her was almost enough to make this situation bearable. Almost.

"Good," she said. "Now, let's get this over with."

Dailey quickly moved on to the briefing, outlining the details of the mission. The organization they were infiltrating was some kind of shadowy criminal organization, the Obsidian Cartel. Their public face was one of very wealthy philanthropists who anonymously supported various humanitarian and environmental causes. In reality, they were a group of oligarchs that had their fingers in everything from arms and antiquities dealing to human trafficking. They were well-connected, ruthless, and, above all, careful. The upcoming event was a high-profile gala, one of the few times when the leaders of the organization would all be in one place. It was the perfect opportunity for Hope and Seth to gather the information they needed.

As Dailey spoke, Hope's mind began to focus on the task at hand. The mission was dangerous, no doubt about it, but it was also something she could sink her teeth into. The challenge of breaking through the cartel's layers of security, of getting close enough to its leaders to gather the intelligence they needed, was exactly the kind of work she had been craving.

When the briefing ended, Dailey excused himself, leaving Hope and Seth alone in the office. The silence between them was deafening, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife.

"Hope—" Seth began, but she cut him off with a sharp look.

"Don't," she said, her voice cold. "We're not doing this. Whatever happened between us at Baker Street, whatever you and Fitzwallace thought you were doing, it's over. We're professionals, and that's all this is going to be."

Seth's jaw tightened, but he didn't argue. "Understood," he said, his tone clipped.

"Good," she replied. "Now, let's get to work."

But as they left the office and headed down the hall together, the memory of Seth's touch lingered, a ghostly reminder of the fire that still smoldered between them, no matter how hard she tried to extinguish it. This mission was going to test more than just their professional skills—it was going to test their ability to keep their personal feelings buried deep where they couldn't interfere.

And that, Hope realized with a sinking feeling, might be the hardest part of all.