Sable Quinn had been born into a world of privilege. Or at least, that's the life she had inherited when she awoke in the body of another young woman—a spoiled rich girl from New York society who had everything: wealth, influence, beauty. It was a perfect cover. The Board had no reason to suspect that behind the flawless blonde hair and the easy, careless charm of privilege, the ghost of Morgana Thayle lived and breathed.
They thought she was gone. Even the House thought so until Istanbul. But this body, this name, kept her invisible. The Board didn't know she existed. And that was how she intended to keep it.
---
The Aftermath of the Funeral
For days after Noor and Marcus's funeral, London became a maze of contradictions. She walked through galleries, coffee shops, and bustling streets with the face of someone who belonged to none of it. Inside, she was still Morgana. Every brushstroke she saw reminded her of Noor's laughter. Every London street corner reminded her of Marcus, and of Adrian.
Especially Adrian.
She hadn't wanted to see him again. She had told herself that what she felt for him had been buried with her old life. But when their eyes met by the graveside, she knew the truth she had tried so hard to deny: she still loved him. Deeply. Enough to burn for it. Enough to run from it.
---
The Director's Vigil
Adrian spent the same days in quiet frustration. The surveillance teams he deployed never found her after she walked away from the funeral. She had vanished as if London had swallowed her whole.
"She doesn't want to be found," Callen said in one of their evening briefings.
"She doesn't know how to stop running," Adrian replied, looking out across the fog-shrouded Thames. "And until she stops, I'll keep looking."
He didn't tell Callen what he had seen in her eyes. For all her threats and her fury, there was love there, too. A dangerous kind of love—the kind that could shatter them both if they weren't careful.
---
Secrets in Society
Sable leaned into her cover. She attended art openings in Mayfair, charity dinners in Chelsea, and private after-hours tours of auction houses. To everyone else, she was just another beautiful young American with more money than purpose. Blonde hair like gold, blue eyes clear as glass, a tailored wardrobe of silk and cashmere.
But each social event doubled as reconnaissance. The Board's influence reached deep into the aristocratic elite of Europe, and she listened, observed, learned. If she was going to dismantle them, she needed to know where their power began.
---
A Night at the Opera
It was at the Royal Opera House that it happened. She had been invited to a gala, and she played her role perfectly, laughing at shallow jokes, gliding through the ballroom like a swan. But halfway through the night, she felt a presence behind her.
"Enjoying yourself?" The voice was warm, familiar.
Her breath caught.
She turned to see Adrian, dressed in black tie, a mask of composure on his face. No one else in the room would have recognized the tension between them.
"You shouldn't be here," she said, trying to sound calm.
"I could say the same to you," he replied. "But since we're both pretending, let's dance."
Before she could protest, he took her hand, guiding her onto the dance floor. The orchestra swelled, and for a few stolen minutes, they moved as they had years ago, when the world had been simpler.
---
A Dangerous Confession
"You still love me," he said softly, close to her ear so no one else could hear.
Sable's steps faltered. "This body isn't mine," she whispered back. "You can't love what isn't real."
"I don't care about the body," he said. "I care about you."
Her throat tightened. "We can't be together, Adrian. I'm not her anymore."
"Yes, you are," he said. "Everything that matters is still you. And I will wait, no matter how long it takes."
Tears burned in her eyes, but she forced herself to hold them back. When the music stopped, she pulled away from him, her mask of composure back in place.
"This is the last time," she said, even though they both knew it was a lie.
And then she disappeared again, leaving him standing alone in the ballroom, his heart still tangled with a ghost.
---
The Board's Blindness
Far from the glittering lights of the opera, the Board sat around a polished table in an undisclosed location, speaking of power and influence. They had no idea that the one weapon they wanted most had already danced beneath a crystal chandelier, unseen, right in front of them.
They didn't know she lived.
For now.