Zara's POV.
If you ever find yourself holding hands with a dangerously handsome surf instructor under a blood-orange Hawaiian sunset while knowing you're both lying to each other... my advice? Run. Fast. But me? I leaned closer.
Leo's words echoed in my skull like a warning siren.
"You're not the only one with secrets."
I couldn't breathe.
My throat tightened. "What do you mean?"
He looked at me. No flirty grin. No cocky wave-boy charm. Just... stillness. Seriousness.
"I mean..." he sighed. "I'm not just a surf instructor. Not exactly."
BOOM.
Just like that, my instincts flipped from romantic to tactical. I subtly reached into my purse, where my hidden blade rested in a stitched pocket. I didn't draw it—yet.
"Then what are you?" I asked, voice cool.
He looked around the beach. "Let's not talk here. Too many ears. Too many eyes."
"Fine," I said. "Your place?"
He gave a short nod.
We didn't speak as we walked. The waves roared louder than our silence. And my mind? Racing. What if he was part of the cartel? What if he knew about my mission? What if—God help me—this whole thing was a setup?
His bungalow was tucked behind a row of swaying palms. Rustic wood, open patio, salt-scented air. The door creaked as we stepped in.
Then he said it.
"I used to be CIA."
I spun around. "What?!"
Leo ran a hand through his messy, sun-bleached hair. "Before I came to Maui, I was deep-cover for a CIA operation in Colombia. Tracking a cartel leader. The same one this resort is rumored to be laundering for."
My lips parted. "You're kidding."
"No. I resigned. Officially. But let's just say you never really leave."
I staggered backward, nearly knocking over a surfboard leaning by the wall. "So you knew? About me?"
"I suspected," he said. "No influencer carries a fake Belgian passport with the watermark missing."
Damn it.
"Why didn't you confront me?"
"Because I wanted to see how far you'd go. Whether you were here for the truth—or the paycheck."
I gritted my teeth. "You don't know anything about me."
"Then tell me."
I took a breath. This wasn't how the mission was supposed to go. I wasn't supposed to fall into steamy moonlit kisses. I wasn't supposed to like the guy. I sure as hell wasn't supposed to be sitting in a secret ex-CIA agent's living room sipping guava juice with a blade still tucked in my bra.
And yet...
"The missing girls," I said. "I think they found something. Something the cartel didn't want them to. Their phones last pinged near the resort's VIP wing—the part that's always mysteriously 'under construction.' I need to get inside."
Leo nodded slowly. "Then we'll go together."
"We?"
"You'll never get past their guards alone. But I teach the bodyguards how to surf every Sunday morning."
I raised an eyebrow. "You seriously charm everyone, huh?"
He winked. "Only the interesting ones."
I stood up. "This is insane."
"And dangerous," he added.
"And stupid."
"And hot."
I stared at him. "We're going to die."
He smiled. "Probably."
But that didn't stop me from kissing him.
Hard.
Because if we were going to die... might as well go down in flames.
<<<<<
Leo's POV.
She kissed me first. I didn't expect that.
Hell, I didn't expect any of this. Not when I first saw her walk into the resort lobby in oversized sunglasses and a fake 'ZaraTheExplorer' badge. I pegged her immediately. She was too smooth. Too alert. Her posture screamed government training. Her lies were tidy. She was one of us—or something close.
But I wasn't ready for how fast she'd mess with my head. My routine. My rules. She pulled back, her lips flushed.
"We work together," she said. "But I still don't trust you."
"Good," I murmured. "I don't trust myself either."
I watched her lean against the railing of my patio, her long hair blowing wildly in the sea breeze. Her eyes scanned the darkened ocean like it held all the answers.
She didn't know the half of it. I wasn't just ex-CIA. I still had ties.
And if Zara found out the real reason I stayed in Maui… if she discovered who was backing me now...
It wouldn't just break her mission. It might break us. If there even was an us.