UNDERCOVER SPY: SECRETS IN DUBAI.
ZARA'S POV–DUBAI, UNITED ARAB EMIRATES —AL ZAHRA PRIVATE ISLAND RESORT.
They said Dubai was a city of gold. What they didn't mention was how easy it was to hide a weapon beneath the shimmer of a silk gown.
I adjusted my diamond necklace—actually a tracker.
My earrings? Disguised listening devices. My smile? Purely fake.
Just like the wedding ring glinting on my left hand.
Yes, I was married. Well, sort of. My new husband was tall, charming, and the kind of man who could disarm a nuclear bomb while flashing a smile straight out of a toothpaste commercial. He also slept with a gun under his pillow and lied as easily as he breathed.
There was sand in my heels, a Glock in my garter, and a fake husband whose abs were so criminal, they should be arrested. Welcome to my honeymoon.
The golden sunlight of Dubai sliced through the windows of the penthouse suite, kissing every inch of marble, silk, and steel. Flooding the room with light and danger. The Burj Khalifa shimmered in the distance, and the Persian Gulf sparkled below like a sapphire invitation to danger.
I adjusted the diamond ring on my finger, flashing under the light—huge, shiny, fake. Just like our marriage.
"Smile, darling," Leo whispered in my ear, his breath brushing the shell like a secret. His arm slid possessively around my waist. "You're a glowing newlywed on your honeymoon. Not an assassin."
I plastered on a megawatt smile just as another photographer clicked, nearly blinding us with the flash. The heat on my skin had nothing to do with the Arabian sun and everything to do with the man beside me.
"Smile, Mrs. Thompson," Leo murmured again, his voice dangerously warm enough to melt my spine. "You look like you'd rather strangle me with your stilettos than enjoy our honeymoon."
"Oh, baby," I purred through clenched teeth, tilting my head toward him like the doting wife I wasn't, "you have no idea."
Click. Click. Pose. And just like that, Mrs. Zara Thompson, freshly wed to Dubai's most dashing tech millionaire, was born.
Except the ring on my finger was cubic zirconia. The man beside me? Former Marine turned covert agent with commitment issues and a death wish. And the entire honeymoon suite? Bugged.
The valet opened the door of our Rolls Royce Phantom and I stepped out, letting the slit of my red dress glide up to reveal the holster strapped to my thigh. I caught the eye of one of the guards—tall, armed, and already suspicious. Good. Let him watch. Let them all watch.
Because tonight, we were breaking into the most heavily guarded gala in the Middle East—hosted by Emir El-Khalid: tech billionaire, philanthropist, and secretly bankrolling the cartel that almost killed my sister.
And I was going to burn him from the inside out. But first…I had to act like a lovesick newlywed.
"Careful, darling," Leo drawled behind me, his voice dripping with charm. "You're starting to look like you actually enjoy being my wife."
"Please," I said, spinning around in heels that cost more than a Glock. "The only thing I enjoy is that our cover lets me carry two guns through security."
Leo's grin stayed photo-ready, but his eyes were scanning and calculating.
"Two hours until the gala," he said, low. "Intel says El-Khalid is arriving with a case. Could be the tech we're after."
He was leaning against the doorframe shirtless, damp hair slicked back, a towel around his waist. Abs like sculpted stone. But his eyes? Still hiding something.
"You should try smiling more," he teased, closing the space between us. "We're on our honeymoon, remember? Let's not give the Viper's men any reason to doubt this marriage is anything but blissful."
The Viper. Just hearing his name made my blood simmer. He had Selina—my sister. My soul. My weakness. And now, he had Dubai.
Leo and I weren't here for the sights. We were here to infiltrate a billionaire's tech gala, charm the right monsters, and steal the data the world wasn't meant to see—one Emir El-Khalid, rumored to be more connected to the international trafficking ring than his polished reputation let on.
Tonight, we'd enter his empire hand-in-hand. Married. In love. And ready to blow everything.
I scanned the private resort's beach. Every palm tree could be hiding a sniper. Every influencer in designer swimwear could be cartel. And I was in a white silk dress with a blade strapped to my thigh.
"Let's give them a honeymoon they'll never forget," I said sweetly. Then I kissed him—hard.
Not because I meant it. Because I needed a distraction to disarm the woman pretending to bring us mojitos.
Snap. I twisted her wrist. Leo caught the tray. The mojitos crashed to the floor. The woman screamed. Security swarmed.
"Honey," Leo muttered as we ducked behind a cabana, "you really know how to make a scene."
"I like to keep our marriage interesting," I shot back, yanking him toward the exit.
We bolted barefoot across the sand, my fake veil whipping behind me like a battle flag. The mission had officially begun.
<<<<<
LEO'S POV – SAME LOCATION.
If there's one thing you learn working with Zara Cruz, it's this: never trust the smile.
She could look like a blushing bride in one moment and dismantle a bomb the next. Tonight, she was doing both.
We stepped into the honeymoon suite—two champagne flutes on ice, rose petals on the bed… and a laser-triggered explosive under the table.
"Classy," I muttered, crouching beside it. "They really rolled out the welcome mat."
Zara leaned against the wall, slipping off her heels and pulling a USB from a diamond hairpin.
"Emir's private security is wired to this suite," she said. "This little beauty gives us two minutes of blackout during the gala."
"You sure?"
She raised a brow. "You asking if I know how to do my job, you are questioning my work, husband?"
I gave her a slow smirk. "Just admiring the view."
She rolled her eyes, and for a second, I caught a glimpse of the girl beneath the spy—the one with a heart, the one who believed in something before Selina was taken.
But then the smile was back.
Professional. Deadly.
"You ready to dance with devils in Dubai, Carter?"
I stood, disarmed the bomb, and handed her a champagne glass.
"To marriage," I said dryly.
She clinked mine. "May it be short and bloody."
Two Hours Later — At the Gala.
She smelled like danger and Dior. Zara's smile could kill, and tonight, it had to.
"Hold my hand," I murmured as we ascended the marble steps of the private estate. "Married couples don't walk five feet apart."
"Married couples don't stash throwing knives in their bras either," she shot back.
I grinned, covering it with a polite nod as we passed the first security checkpoint—easy. The second was tighter. My fingers itched toward the pistol hidden in my waistband, but instead I slid my hand down to the curve of her waist. Stay in character, Leo.
The terrace opened before us, awash in soft golden light. Arabic jazz floated from a live band. Guests in couture gowns and bespoke tuxedos sipped champagne worth more than our last mission combined.
"El-Khalid's here," I murmured, tilting my head toward the balcony.
He was exactly as I remembered—handsome, cruel, and radiating power. He spoke to a foreign minister, but his eyes kept flicking toward us.
"Think he recognizes you?" I asked.
Zara's voice was steady, but her eyes didn't leave him. "Not yet. But he will."
Inside, the ballroom glittered like a loaded trap—gold chandeliers, politicians, billionaires, and criminals dressed as kings. And then there was Zara Cruz in red silk, walking in like royalty. Every head turned. So did mine.
The Emir arrived—tall, cold, and calculating. He took Zara's hand, pressing his lips to it with the kind of charm that felt like a warning. My trigger finger twitched.
She played the part of the perfect flirt. He led her away into the crowd. And I… stayed behind. Watching. Waiting. Exactly as planned.
<<<<<
ZARA POV.
The gala glittered with diamonds, lies, and blood money.
But beneath it all, I could feel the tension rise.
Leo was scanning the perimeter. I was eyeing the security routes. And our contact—the girl who could get us into El-Khalid's underground data lab—was late.
"Don't move," I whispered suddenly, planting a soft kiss on Leo's cheek.
"What are you—"
"Sniper. Rooftop. Eleven o'clock."
His jaw tensed. "Do we abort?"
"No. We dance."
He blinked. "What?"
"I said dance, husband."
I pulled him into the center of the ballroom just as the band shifted to a sensual rhythm. Bodies swayed. Lights dimmed. The sniper's laser disappeared.
Let them think we were in love. Let them think we belonged here. Let them never see the betrayal coming.
<<<<<
LEO'S POV.
The music in the rooftop club pulsed like a heartbeat. Neon lights painted the glass walls, but I wasn't here for the view. The song ended. Our contact was late.
Zara stood at the railing, Dubai's skyline blazing behind her. Her red silk dress was simple but lethal—the kind of elegance that hid a knife in the folds. She scanned the crowd like a predator waiting for prey.
Then, finally, the girl appeared. Young. Shaking. A map of scars trailed up her arm like history carved into skin. She moved straight for Zara, pressing a small flash drive into her hand with trembling fingers.
"They know about Selina," she whispered, eyes darting around.
I tensed. Selina's safe, I wanted to say — safe back home, recovering from everything the cartel did to her. But the girl's next words iced my blood.
"They've put a price on her head."
Zara's jaw tightened.
The girl swallowed. "And El-Khalid… he wants you both dead before sunrise."
<<<<<
ZARA'S POV.
I blinked through the flood of emotions. The world spun, but my mission didn't. My pulse stayed steady. I'd learned a long time ago that fear was a luxury I couldn't afford. Selina was free — but she would never be out of danger. Not while the men who broke her still had power.
El-Khalid's name was already carved into my kill list. Then I wasn't just going after El-Khalid.
I was going to tear his empire down. Now? It was underlined. Twice. With Leo. Or without him. And it all began tonight.
I slid the flash drive into my clutch. "Tell him we'll see him soon," I said.
Leo frowned. "Zara—"
"This isn't about survival anymore," I cut in. My voice was low, but my hands were already curling into fists.
This was about ending an empire. We had a target. We had one night. And before the sun rose over the desert…El-Khalid would learn what happens when you come for my family.