Page 71 of Rogue Hope
“Sure,” she replied, her voice hardening. “I trusted you once before. I won’t make that mistake again.”
As the team began moving him toward the door, Finn maintained eye contact with Zara, searching desperately for any hint of the connection he’d believed they were rebuilding.
“Whatever evidence you found was planted,” he insisted. “Zara, please. You’ve been manipulated.”
Something flickered in her eyes—uncertainty? doubt?—but it vanished so quickly he might have imagined it.
“Take him,” she instructed Ronan. “I’ll follow with the evidence.”
As they led him outside to a waiting vehicle, Finn’s mind raced through possible explanations. Someone had gone to extraordinary lengths to convince Zara he was working for Cipher. Someone wanted him eliminated from the investigation. Someone feared what he might discover.
The practical implications were secondary to the personal devastation. She had believed the worst of him. Again. After everything they’d shared, after the tentative trust they’d begun rebuilding, she had accepted a fabricated narrative without confronting him.
The vehicle door closed behind him, cutting off his last view of Zara standing on the villa steps, her face impassive as she watched him taken away.
In that moment, something broke inside Finn that no amount of meditation or spiritual awakening could repair. He had foolishly allowed himself to hope, to dream of redemption.
The lesson, finally learned too late. Some bridges, once burned, leave nothing but ashes.
38
Zara watchedFinn’s processing through the observation window, fighting to keep her face neutral. Control was her specialty—had been since her CIA days—but the look on his face when they’d taken him into custody in Malaysia had cracked something inside her.
“You sure you want to babysit this?” Ronan appeared beside her, arms crossed over his broad chest. “Axel can handle the intake procedures.”
“I’m fine.” She squared her shoulders, ignoring the first warning twinge in her wrist.
“Nobody said you weren’t.” Ronan studied her face. “But it’s not weakness to step back when you’re personally involved.”
“I’m not personally involved.” The lie tasted like metal. “I just want everything done by the book. We know what he’s capable of.”
So why couldn’t she shake the memory of his face when her team burst into the safehouse? Not anger or calculation—just raw, genuine hurt.
“Reese’s team checked in from Eastern Europe,” Ronan said. “Mission’s running long. We’ll have the facility to ourselves at least another week.”
“We don’t need Jack’s team for this.” Zara watched as Axel guided Finn toward the biometric scanner. “High-value detainees are nothing new.”
“Maybe.” Ronan frowned. “But I don’t like the timing.”
Pain shot through Zara’s wrist and into her forearm—first warning of a flare. She discreetly massaged the joint. “We follow the evidence. That’s all we can do.”
The pain intensified. Too many sleepless nights. Too much caffeine. Too much adrenaline since Phoenix went sideways. Her body was sending signals she couldn’t afford to acknowledge.
Not now. Not with Cipher’s key operative in custody.
“I need to finish the intake.” She moved toward the door.
“Zara.” Ronan’s voice stopped her. “Remember who we’re dealing with. Don’t let your history cloud your judgment.”
She met his gaze levelly. “My history is exactly why I won’t underestimate him.”
Down in processing, Finn stood stock-still as the scanner mapped his biometrics. His dark hair fell across his forehead, longer than Paris. The stubble along his jaw hadn’t been there before. It made him look dangerous.
And tired. So very tired.
“Subject confirmed. Finn Stevenson Novak,” the system announced. “Identity verified.”
Finn raised his eyes to hers—their first real eye contact since Malaysia. The intensity nearly knocked her back a step.
