Hazel's eyelids fluttered open as consciousness slowly returned. The familiar room confirmed where she was... and the arm wrapped tightly around her waist belonged to Francisco.
They had slept together last night.
She steadied her breathing, fully aware of her first goal: slipping out of his hold without waking him.
She felt his warm breath on her bare neck. It sent a strange chill down her spine.
Hot, steady breath.
The rhythm of it made her pause.
Is he… breathing deliberately?
The thought unsettled her. Was he really asleep?
Still, she pressed her lips together, pushed the thought aside, and focused on freeing herself.
Slowly, Hazel lifted his hand from her waist, moving carefully to avoid alerting him. The way he held her was tight... almost like he didn't want her to leave.
She quietly lowered her toes to the floor and slipped out of bed, scanning the room. Her eyes landed on the table stacked with important papers.
Francisco's plans.
She crept over, her curiosity pulling her closer. The documents were marked with neat, deliberate notes. The names of locations jumped out at her:
Georgia.
Maine.
Texas.
She bent closer, trying to make sense of what he was planning. Every mark, every line, felt calculated.
She leaned in further, carefully studying the layout.
Behind her, Francisco stirred... but didn't move.
His eyes were open, watching her. His gaze traveled from the soft fall of her hair to the curve of her back, down to the tips of her toes. He said nothing, only watched as Hazel... unaware... focused on the secrets written on his papers.
His expression darkened with a storm of thoughts.
Who are you?
Francisco asked in the silence of his mind.
I don't like the way you control me.
I hate this feeling.
I hate when you look away.
I hate when you don't talk.
I hate when you smile at Rafael but not at me.
I hate that I can't trap you, make you mine.
His thoughts burned as fiercely as the desire to break free from them.
Suddenly, he broke the silence, his voice low and clear.
"Hazel Somerset."
He sat up, grabbed a cigarette, and lit it. The flick of the lighter echoed in the quiet room. Smoke curled around his face as his eyes landed on Hazel.
"What are you doing, Hazel?"
Startled, Hazel's eyes widened. She rushed to gather the papers, trying not to look guilty.
"Sorry, Mr. Francisco. The papers were scattered… I just thought I'd organize them," she said quickly.
She stacked the documents neatly, then turned and bowed her head politely.
"Thank you... for everything," she said quietly.
"As your PA, I'll take care of everything while I'm here. Since you're helping me… and letting me stay in your mansion… I want to help with your meals, your health. Think of it as compensation."
Francisco watched her, the corner of his mouth curving into a knowing smirk.
"That's all?" he asked, amused.
Hazel nodded, eyes still lowered.
Then came an unexpected burst of laughter from Francisco... sharp, smooth, and mocking.
"So, how are you going to take care of me?"
Hazel looked up and met his gaze. His blue eyes sparkled, sharp as glass in the morning light. She took a deep breath. Her spine straightened.
"I will do it."
Hazel stepped forward, locking eyes with Francisco. She leaned over the bed, slowly closing the space between them. Her gaze never wavered.
Without hesitation, she reached for the cigarette between his lips. Her fingers brushed against his mouth... soft, intentional. Francisco didn't stop her. He just watched, eyes fixed on hers.
Hazel held the cigarette between her fingers and said softly, "It's bad for your health."
She turned and dropped it into the ashtray.
Francisco broke the silence.
"It's my habit."
Hazel stood tall, her voice calm but firm.
"Sometimes we need to break bad habits... for our own good, Mr. Francisco."
Then she turned and walked away, calm and composed.
Inside, Hazel's thoughts raced.
I don't know how much longer I can do this. I just need to finish this mission.
Hazel swiftly exited the room as the door was unlocked with Francisco's voice. He leaned back against the bed, eyes closed.
Do you even know what you've done?
Are you testing me, Hazel?
No one dares approach me first—
But you always do. Why?
Hazel locked the door behind her as she stepped into Diana's room. A sense of urgency pressed down on her. She took a deep breath, steadying herself—it was time to send the message.
From her small purse, she pulled out a compact transmitter, her hidden lifeline to the agency. It was how she passed critical intel to the team waiting outside.
She moved into the washroom and connected the transmitter to a tiny wireless mic, working quickly but carefully. Every second counted.
Leaning close, she spoke three quiet words into the device:
"Georgia, Maine, Texas."
The names of Francisco's next targets. They were all the agents needed to stop the operation.
Hazel disconnected the transmitter, her hands steady. Without hesitation, she dropped it into the toilet and flushed, watching the last trace of her message disappear.
She stared into the water for a moment, a silent hope in her heart.
"Rafael, please stop the deal in time."