Page 38 of Protect Thy Enemy

And then there’s the pictures. Dozens of them on the walls, all of her, all pristine. Polished. Flawless.

I feel like I walked onto a set of a Disney movie, a psychological thriller, or a serial killer documentary.

I can’t quite say which one I prefer.

When the First Lady enters, it’s as though she’s stepped straight out of one of those sets. A main lady in her own right.

Her blond waves are soft and shining, her pearl necklace gleams, and her pale-blue dress looks specifically made for this moment. She smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes.

It’s off-putting. I’ve had my fair share of encounters with people in high positions working undercover. One takeaway that will stick with me forever is that the ones with the smooth exteriors are best at hiding devious edges.

“Special Agent Arden Williams,” she says, her voice light and melodic. “Thank you for coming.”

I straighten automatically, resisting the urge to wipe my sweaty palms on my pants. “Of course, ma’am.”

She glides into the room with a grace that makes my boots feel like lead. Every step, every gesture, every flicker of her gaze feels calculated. I brace myself for it.

You’re fired.

“I know you’re probably wondering why I requested to meet with you.”

More like summoned, but I refrain from saying that. I refrain from doing anything but breathing at this point.

“I wanted to personally thank you for yesterday,” she says, her smile unwavering. “Your quick response didn’t go unnoticed.”

Wait—what?

My mind stutters, but I keep a cool mask of indifference on. This is not where I thought this was going.

“Just doing my job, ma’am,” I manage, the words stiff, automatic. The adrenaline still hasn’t left my system, and it’s likemy body can’t decide whether to relax or gear up for another fight.

Her smile widens just slightly, but it seems none of those rehearsed smiles reach her eyes. “Well, I wanted you to hear it directly from me. You made the right call. The president and I are both grateful. He wanted to be here as well, but there were a few scheduling conflicts.”

I blink again, struggling to process. The right call? The president and I? Grateful?

Yesterday plays out in my head. The man in the suit, me chasing him and finding the bomb, Grant’s fury, and I can’t exactly correlate the words with the ones she provided.

“Thank you, ma’am,” I say finally, the words feeling foreign. “Not a problem at all. I assume he is a very busy man. I thank you both for the gratitude.”

She studies me for a moment, her expression unreadable. “I imagine it wasn’t an easy situation. But it’s at moments like those when true character shows.”

“Just doing my job, ma’am,” I repeat, unsure what to say and unsure where she’s going with this.

The First Lady tilts her head, her smile tightening just enough to shift from faux warm to calculating. "I see more than just someone doing their job. I’ve read your file. Youngest detective on the Maryland PD. Three major crime syndicate busts before your departure. Impressive, Agent Williams."

My pulse quickens, the words settling over me like a dark cloud. How deep did she dig?

My file contains nothing damning. No disciplinary actions, no skeletons hiding in a closet. Well, unless you count a few snippy remarks about my “unapproachable demeanor” or a note about my RBF. Otherwise, my record is spotless. Practically angelic.

But the way she says it, like she’s already pulled me apart and pieced me back together in her mind, makes my skin crawl. It’sas if she’s looking for something. Like that smile of hers would make me reveal my deepest and darkest secrets.

"I’m looking for someone to lead my personal security team," she continues smoothly, her voice as polished as her pearls. "And I think you’d be a perfect fit."

I stop breathing. The words replay in my head, hitting me like a sucker punch with every new start. I didn't blink this time, sure I must’ve misheard. I allow a silent moment to pass before realizing the seriousness of the situation. "I-I’ve only been here a few weeks, ma’am." My voice falters before I pull it together. "With all due respect, I don’t think I’m qualified for that."

Hell, I’m still trying to figure out where the break room coffee is kept, and she wants me to lead her security detail?

Countless agents are more qualified for the job, more willing.

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