Elena hated the dress.
It was silk, blood-red, and far too tight around the waist. The kind of dress that demanded attention, that turned every pair of eyes into a weapon. But that was the point.
Tonight, she was no longer just Elena Cruz. She was Alyssa Rivers, billionaire heiress and tech investor with a past no one could verify and a future most men would beg to be part of. It was her first mission—and Rhea had made it very clear.
"You're not here to fight," Rhea said, adjusting Elena's hair into a sleek bun. "You're here to charm."
"And if charm doesn't work?" Elena asked dryly.
Rhea smirked. "Then seduce. You've got five minutes to convince the target to escort you into the vault room."
Henri entered the room just then, jaw clenched, eyes locked on the dress.
"No," he growled. "She's not wearing that."
Elena arched a brow. "Oh? And what would you prefer? A nun's robe?"
Henri stepped forward, ignoring Rhea. "This isn't a game, Elena. Santiago's compound is crawling with ex-mercenaries. If you get caught—"
"I'll improvise," she said sharply. "Like you did when you seduced me into a marriage contract?"
Henri's jaw twitched. "That was different."
"Was it?" she asked, stepping close, her breath brushing his lips. "Because from where I'm standing, this is just another Castellanos manipulation. Except this time, I'm doing the playing."
He grabbed her wrist suddenly, pulling her flush against him. The air between them crackled like lightning over gasoline.
"Elena," he said darkly, "don't do this to prove a point."
She tilted her head. "Maybe I'm doing it to feel alive."
And then she kissed him—hard, deep, dangerous.
His control shattered in an instant.
Her back slammed into the dressing table as he kissed her like a man starved, his hands tangling in her hair, her thigh hooked over his hip. It was violence disguised as passion, hunger masked as revenge. But in the middle of it, Elena tasted something else.
Fear.
Henri was afraid—afraid for her. And that made her pause.
She pulled back slowly, eyes searching his.
"I'll come back," she whispered.
He stared at her, breathing ragged. "You better."
The gala at Santiago's estate was a masquerade of power—diplomats, tech moguls, cartel bosses, and killers in tuxedos. Elena moved through the crowd like she'd been born for it, a glass of champagne in one hand and an earpiece tucked beneath a diamond-studded cuff.
"Target approaching from the west hall," Rhea's voice said in her ear. "Name's Kai Von Draken. Cyber-arms dealer. Charming as hell, deadly when cornered."
Elena turned just in time.
Kai was tall, tanned, with eyes that sparkled like wine and a smile that belonged in a perfume ad. "Alyssa Rivers," he purred. "I've been dying to meet you."
She smiled back, sultry and dangerous. "Careful. I bite."
He leaned closer. "So do I."
She laughed, hooking her arm through his. "Walk with me?"
Ten minutes in and she had him eating out of her hand. Twenty minutes later, he led her through a guarded hallway, flashing a gold access card at a retinal scanner.
Vault room unlocked.
Rhea's voice crackled in her ear. "Beautiful. Now disable the security node on the left panel. You have 60 seconds."
Kai turned to her. "I should warn you. I'm very bad at sharing secrets."
She kissed him once, hard, before he could question anything—and while his hands were busy gripping her waist, hers slipped the small neural disruptor from her bracelet and disabled the surveillance feed.
"Thirty seconds," Rhea warned.
Elena pulled back. "Be right back. Powdering my nose."
He winked. "Hurry, darling."
Inside the vault, she moved like liquid—past stacks of weapons blueprints, encrypted files, and cold cash.
Then she saw it: a folder labeled Project Dahlia.
Heart pounding, she grabbed it and scanned the contents.
A list of code names.
Primrose.Viper.Blackbird.Nightshade.
And at the bottom—
ORCHID: Status — Inactive. Location: Redgrave Asylum, Prague.
Her mother wasn't just missing.
She was locked away.
Suddenly, a sound. Footsteps.
The vault door slammed.
She turned.
Kai stood there, gun drawn, all traces of charm gone. "You're not Alyssa Rivers."
Elena raised her hands slowly. "And you're not just a cyber dealer, are you?"
"You just stole from the wrong client," he said. "Santiago doesn't forgive."
She smiled.
"Good thing I don't ask for forgiveness."
With a flick of her heel, a hidden blade launched from her shoe, slicing through his gun hand. He screamed, but she was already moving—spinning, striking, landing a knee to his stomach and grabbing his weapon.
"Open the door," she hissed.
He sneered. "Or what?"
She fired once—just past his ear.
The door clicked open.
Elena ran.
Outside, chaos had erupted.
Gunshots. Sirens. Someone had triggered an alert.
"Elena, abort!" Rhea shouted. "Extraction point is compromised!"
But Elena wasn't listening. She sprinted through the hedge maze of Santiago's compound, file clutched in her chest.
A black car skidded to a halt in the distance.
Henri jumped out.
"Elena—RUN!"
She didn't think. Just moved.
He met her halfway, pulling her into the car as bullets rained around them.
Inside the vehicle, panting, shaking, Elena turned to him and slammed the file into his lap.
"She's in Prague," she whispered. "They've been keeping her in a facility. Project Orchid isn't dead."
Henri flipped through the papers, color draining from his face.
"They made her into a weapon."
Elena's voice cracked. "My mother's alive. And she's being used."
He pulled her into his arms, kissing her forehead, holding her tight.
"I swear on my life, Elena. We're going to get her out."
But neither of them saw the small red dot blinking on the edge of the folder.
A tracker.
And far away, in a dark office lined with roses and blood, Matteo Cruz was already watching.