Chapter 3 — The Notebook

The interrogation room lights buzzed softly overhead.

Cold white.

Unforgiving.

The kind of lighting designed to flatten people into evidence.

Eliana sat alone at the metal table with a classified folder spread open in front of her, one ankle crossed elegantly over the other like she was waiting for coffee instead of military questioning.

Technically, she was not under interrogation.

Technically.

The distinction felt cosmetic.

Outside the reinforced glass wall, rain hammered against the compound windows hard enough to blur the floodlights into streaks of silver.

Somewhere deeper in the warehouse, someone shouted.

Someone else screamed louder.

BLACK VEIL’s nightly soundtrack.

Eliana kept translating.

Line after line.

Russian to English.

Arabic to French.

Fragments of intercepted communications, contractor reports, movement logs.

Her expression remained calm.

Internally, she was performing advanced emotional gymnastics to avoid thinking about one specific masked man.

Unfortunately, the universe hated her.

The interrogation room door opened without warning.

No footsteps.

No dramatic entrance.

Just presence.

Kael Vanth stepped inside carrying silence with him like a weapon.

The door clicked shut behind him.

Eliana didn’t look up immediately.

That would imply nervousness.

Instead, she finished the sentence she was translating, set down her pen carefully, then glanced toward him with mild professional annoyance.

“Please tell me someone died for a reason this time,” she said. “I’m running out of emotionally healthy ways to process workplace violence.”

Kael remained standing near the door.

Black tactical clothing.

Dark hair still damp from rain.

Mask hiding the lower half of his face.

Those steel-grey eyes locked onto her instantly.

Still.

Focused.

The atmosphere shifted around him the way storms changed air pressure before lightning.

“You altered another translation,” he said.

Straight to the point.

Of course.

Eliana leaned back slightly in her chair.

“Good evening to you too.”

“You changed wording in the convoy intercept.”

“I improved wording in the convoy intercept.”

“You omitted references to northern movement routes.”

She sighed dramatically.

“Because the original speaker sounded like he learned sentence structure from concussions.”

Kael walked toward the table slowly.

Not threatening.

Controlled.

That was worse.

Eliana watched him approach through lowered lashes while carefully keeping her breathing even.

He moved like a man who understood exactly how dangerous he was and had decided restraint was more efficient than intimidation.

Unfortunately, restraint was infinitely hotter.

Terrible development overall.

Kael stopped across from her.

Close enough now that she could see rainwater still clinging faintly to the edges of his hair.

Close enough to smell smoke and cold air beneath the scent of gun oil.

“You changed tactical details,” he repeated.

Eliana tilted her head.

“And yet everyone survived. Inspirational.”

His gaze dropped briefly to the papers in front of her.

Then to her hands.

Then to the notebook beside her elbow.

Small.

Black leather.

Unmarked.

Dangerous.

Ah.

There it was.

Her pulse tapped once against the inside of her wrist.

Kael noticed immediately.

Of course he did.

His eyes narrowed slightly.

“You carry that everywhere.”

“Congratulations again on your observational skills. At this rate, they may promote you to detective.”

“You never let anyone touch it.”

“It’s called boundaries. Therapists recommend them.”

Kael reached toward the notebook.

Eliana’s hand moved first.

Fast.

Not panicked.

Instinctive.

Her fingers closed over the cover before he could touch it.

The room went still.

Very still.

Interesting.

Kael looked down at her hand covering the notebook.

Then slowly lifted his gaze back to her face.

There was no visible emotion in his eyes.

But something sharpened underneath the stillness.

Recognition.

Pattern identification.

Predator instinct.

“You move like trained personnel,” he said quietly.

Eliana smiled.

“So do ballet dancers. You going to interrogate Swan Lake next?”

His stare didn’t break.

“You noticed the sniper angle yesterday before impact.”

“Lucky guess.”

“You tracked exits in the interrogation room.”

“Anxiety.”

“You sleep armed.”

“Womanhood.”

A pause.

Then—

Very faintly—

Something dangerous flickered behind Kael’s eyes.

Not anger.

Engagement.

Like he was beginning to enjoy this.

Well.

That was deeply concerning.

Kael pulled out the chair opposite her and sat down.

The movement surprised her more than it should have.

Men like him usually preferred looming.

But sitting changed the atmosphere entirely.

More intimate.

More focused.

More dangerous.

The overhead light cut shadows sharply across the angles of his face and mask.

Eliana suddenly became aware of how alone they were.

No Kane.

No Mira.

No operatives.

Just her.

And Ghost.

Excellent.

She hated this already.

Kael folded his gloved hands together on the metal table.

“You lied about Boston.”

Not a question.

Eliana blinked slowly.

“I’ve lied about several things today. You’ll need to narrow it down.”

“You studied there for six months, not two years.”

Ah.

Interesting.

He’d checked.

Personally.

That realization sent a tiny ripple of alarm through her chest.

Not because he knew.

Because he cared enough to look.

That was worse.

Eliana leaned forward slightly.

“And what exactly does BLACK VEIL use for background checks? Google? Witchcraft?”

Kael ignored the joke.

“You also speak Russian with eastern military inflection.”

“Maybe I contain multitudes.”

“You hesitate before answering personal questions.”

“Because I dislike people.”

“That isn’t hesitation.”

The room fell quiet again.

Rain hammered against the windows harder now.

Kael watched her the way snipers watched movement through scopes.

Patiently.

Relentlessly.

Eliana held his gaze.

Most people eventually looked away from men like him.

That was how power worked.

Fear lowered eyes automatically.

But Kael’s attention felt strangely different.

Not dominance.

Not ego.

Analysis.

As if he genuinely needed to understand why she didn’t behave correctly around him.

Like she was the first equation in years refusing to solve cleanly.

“How long have you worked for BLACK VEIL?” she asked suddenly.

His eyes narrowed slightly.

“Deflection.”

“Conversation.”

“You avoid answering directly.”

“You ask terrible questions.”

A beat passed.

Then Kael spoke again.

“What are you hiding?”

There it was.

Direct.

Simple.

Dangerous.

Eliana felt something strange twist briefly beneath her ribs.

Not fear.

Something worse.

Because part of her wanted to answer honestly.

She hated that immediately.

So instead she smiled softly.

The polished one.

The carefully crafted civilian smile designed to disarm men before they noticed knives.

“What makes you think I’m hiding something?”

Kael leaned back slightly in the chair.

“You watch rooms before entering.”

“So do you.”

“You catalog weapons automatically.”

“So do you.”

“You lie without emotional fluctuation.”

That one landed.

Harder than expected.

Eliana’s smile thinned almost invisibly.

Kael noticed.

Of course he noticed.

Silence settled between them again.

Heavy now.

Personal.

The kind of silence that stopped feeling professional and started feeling intimate in deeply unhealthy ways.

Kael’s gaze dropped once more to the notebook beneath her hand.

Then back to her eyes.

“Open it.”

Eliana laughed softly.

“No.”

Another pause.

Neither moved.

Rain.

Breathing.

Metal lights buzzing overhead.

Then Kael stood slowly from the table.

The movement should have reduced tension.

Instead it made everything worse.

He stepped around the table toward her side.

Eliana stayed seated.

Mostly because if she stood now, it would look like retreat.

And she refused to retreat from a man wearing enough tactical gear to invade a small country.

Kael stopped beside her chair.

Close.

Too close.

One gloved hand rested against the edge of the metal table beside her shoulder.

Not trapping her.

Not quite.

His voice lowered slightly.

“You’re either very brave,” he said quietly, “or catastrophically reckless.”

Eliana tilted her head back to look up at him.

Close enough now to see the exhaustion buried beneath those grey eyes.

Close enough to hear the roughness in his breathing beneath the mask.

“Those aren’t mutually exclusive.”

For one terrible second—

Kael looked at her mouth.

Tiny movement.

Almost nothing.

But she saw it.

And judging by the sudden stillness in his shoulders—

He realized she saw it too.

Interesting.

Very, very inconvenient.

Then his hand moved.

Fast.

Before Eliana could react, Kael lifted the notebook cleanly from beneath her fingers.

Her body responded instantly.

She grabbed his wrist.

The room froze.

Every muscle in Kael’s body locked beneath her touch.

Not aggressive.

Not violent.

Worse.

Still.

Like she’d accidentally pressed against exposed wiring.

Eliana felt it immediately.

The sudden tension.

The sharp intake of breath behind the mask.

The way his entire body went unnaturally motionless.

Oh.

Oh, that was fascinating.

Kael slowly lowered his eyes to where her hand touched his wrist.

Then back to her face.

Eliana released him carefully.

Neither spoke.

Neither moved.

The air between them felt electrically wrong now.

Charged.

Kael stared at her another second longer.

Then stepped backward with the notebook still in his hand.

“I’ll return this after inspection.”

Eliana folded her arms.

“That sounds emotionally violating.”

Kael reached the door.

Then paused.

Without looking back, he said quietly:

“You weren’t afraid during the convoy attack.”

Eliana leaned against the chair.

“Should I have been?”

A long silence.

Then:

“Yes.”

The door shut behind him.

And for the first time in years—

Eliana stared at a closed door and realized she had absolutely no idea which one of them was becoming more dangerous to the other.