We arrive at the MOD building and Marcus gets out less than a second after he turns off his engine. I scramble to catch up with him, almost tripping as I get out of the car and my heel catches.
Marcus grabs my arm and I stumble into his chest. For a second, I forget about everything as I internally admire how hard his muscular chest is, and how amazing his fresh, cologne smells on him. The scents of apple and pine in addition to the way his arms wrap around me as he helps me straighten up, almost make my knees weak.
I look up into his eyes. His blue-grey orbs stare back down at me, and an amused smile sits on his face. He's so handsome I could melt. I become acutely aware of his hand still resting on my arm. I can feel each one of his fingers on my skin and it sends shivers running down my spine.
"Thank you," I reply, smiling confidently as though I'm not completely embarrassed by my fumble. I'm just glad I'm wearing enough foundation to hide my blush.
"Perhaps try not to fall like that in front of the big boss," he jokes. I roll my eyes and step away from him.
"I won't I promise," I reply and adjust my dress before running a hand through my hair. "Right, I think I'm ready."
"Come on, let's go," he says and gestures for me to follow him. As we walk through the car park toward the lift, Marcus talks about the man we are about to meet.
"His name is Curtis Manstyn and he's a tough man to impress." Marcus presses a button on the lift and the doors open. We step inside and he swipes his card on a scanner before then holding his thumb to a black screen. It scans it and only then can he press a button marked for the top floor.
I let out a shaky breath. I'm meeting the head of Military Intelligence to help solve an assassination that I committed. My head spins as I try and comprehend that.
I'm meeting this realm's version of Mr. Day. He can't be scarier than Mr. Day, right?
"How should I address him? Does he have a special name or title?" I ask, my mouth dry from nerves.
"You should call him Commander," he tells me. I nod my head and play wipe my clammy hands on my dress.
"Don't be nervous, Ivy," he assures me. "You are a very intelligent and bright young woman. I'm sure he'll be as impressed with you as I am."
Hearing his complement sends a giddy rush through me and I bite my lip to stop myself from grinning.
"I've already shown him your file and he was the one who approved your continuous work for me after the incident with Serena's father. He already knows you exist, now you just have to impress him in person."
"And my looks are a major part of that?" I ask, gesturing to my dress and recalling his request for me to dress up.
"There is a certain image he wants for those who work for him. Why do you think I wear suits like this all the time?" he chuckles. "He's looking for the type of person who exudes confidence, power, and professionalism."
I look down at my dress and straighten it once more. "Well, I already feel the part," I say and shift on my feet nervously. Thankfully, with how much I've been wearing heels, my feet feel numb to the pain of standing and walking while wearing stilettos.
Plus, there is something powerful about a woman in a suit and heels. I remember the way people used to look at my mother when she wore her red dress and blazer. Power and authority used to radiate off her.
"Clothes are a powerful weapon in a woman's arsenal. It is a weapon that is often overlooked. Clothes are what shapes someone's first opinion of you and first impressions can be the difference between getting what you want or not."
Mother's words ring back in my mind. What would Mother do in this situation? She would walk in there like she owned the place, that's what she'd do.
I square my shoulders, letting confidence fill me. Mother trained me for moments like this and I'm not going to let her down. No matter what, I will get what I need out of Marcus and the Commander.
"Are you ready?" he asks as the lift slows.
"As I'll ever be," I reply and the doors slide open. Marcus gestures for me to walk ahead of him. I do so, stepping out of the lift and into a sterile white corridor. The lights are so bright, that they make my eyes sting. I blink rapidly and continue forward.
Large windows sit to my right, looking out over the city. If I weren't going to such an important meeting, I would stop and admire the city skyline which glows in the darkness thanks to the millions of lights.
At the end of the corridor, two armed guards stand beside grand wooden doors. They nod their heads at Marcus and cast weary glances at me.
"She's with me," Marcus tells them, his voice firm. They nod their heads and let us pass. Marcus opens the door with a swipe of his card and a scan of his thumb. Beyond, it opens up into a large reception area. It has the same modern white décor as the rest of the building. I almost let out a sigh of disappointment. I thought the head office would have more grandeur. Then again, Mr. Day's office is nothing special.
A man in a suit sits behind a long desk. He looks up as we enter.
"I'm here to see the Commander," Marcus says. The man nods his head and picks up a phone. My heart races in my chest with nerves, emphasised by the tense silence as we wait for the person on the other end of the line to answer.
When the receptionist speaks, I nearly jump.
"Mr. Kaiser is here to see you. He has a young woman with him."
He pauses and I lick my dry lips and glance at Marcus out of the corner of my eye. His expression gives nothing away.
I picture my mother once more, calling upon her lessons. If she can stand fearless before rival gang leaders, I can stand before a spymaster.
Come on, Rowan. Don't let Mother down.
The receptionist puts down his phone and looks back up at Marcus.
"He's ready for you."
"Thank you," Marcus replies, and spins on his heels, walking to another set of grand, white wooden doors.
I follow after him, suddenly feeling self-conscious about how loudly my heels click on the marble floor.
Marcus knocks on the door and for a moment, there is a terrifying silence.
"Come in," a voice from beyond calls.
I take in a shallow breath and square my shoulders. This is it. Don't fuck it up.
Marcus opens the door and moves aside so I can walk in first. As I step into the room, I make sure I keep my head high and my posture straight. I do not want the first impression this man has of me to be that of a timid young woman.
That being said, I can't help but widen my eyes as I stare at the office. It is huge. Three of the four walls are great glass windows with a view over what feels like the whole city. Again, just like I had in the corridor, I almost find myself stopping just so I can stare out at the magnificent city. It looks so much better at night. There is a strange magic to it. All the shit and dull grey buildings are hidden by the darkness, leaving only the good and beautiful behind.
Ahead of me, a man sits behind a great, mahogany desk. He leans back in his leather chair, making the material crinkle and crease. A calm smile rests on his face and his brown eyes find me immediately.
"Marcus," he says warmly.
"Commander," Marcus replies, shutting the door behind him.
The commander's eyes rake over me, but not in the same way Mr. Salt looks at me. No, he is observing me, taking in everything about me to determine whether or not I am a threat. If anything, this feels worse, more personal.
The hairs on the back of my neck stand, and I try not to cower beneath his intense gaze as he tries to figure me out.
I can't help but wonder if a man like him, with the experience he has, would be able to sniff me out immediately. I meet his eyes, not wanting to give him any hints of fear or discomfort.
His eyes narrow ever so slightly and my heart leaps into my throat.
He knows.
"This is Ivy Astor, the analyst I was talking to you about," Marcus says, taking a seat on one of the leather chairs in front of the desk.
He doesn't answer and his eyes remain on mine. I can't help but stare back at his worn, wrinkled face, the face of a man who has seen and done a lot in his lifetime. This is a man of war. This is a man who knows what to look for when it comes to spies and enemies.
I smile, making it as beautiful and charming as I can muster. I remember the hours my mother used to make me practice my smiles, thinking it was pointless at the time.
"Sometimes, all it takes to disarm an enemy is a smile. Men always underestimate women, especially one who has such an innocent, effortless smile. They don't realise it of course, but upon seeing a beautiful smile from a beautiful woman, they forget any ideas that she may be a threat. Especially if said beautiful smile appears genuine and effortless. Men love a woman who isn't aware of her beauty. But, to smile like that on command takes practice. Just like most aspects of womanhood, appearing effortless takes a lot of effort. If your winning smile comes across as forced, or fake, then you can bet that your target will pick up on it and from there, all trust is gone."
At the time, I hated her for it. Now, I am incredibly grateful. I see the switch almost immediately. The commander smiles back at me and stands up, stretching out his arm.
"It's wonderful to finally meet you, Ivy," he says. I step forward and take his hand, shaking it firmly.
"Thank you, Sir," I reply. "I am glad to meet you too."
He gestures for me to sit in the other seat.
"I've seen your file, Miss Astor. It's impressive."
"Thank you, Sir."
"I've also looked at many of the reports you've submitted for your department. They are some of the best I've seen from an analysts of your level."
My smile widens at the compliment and that one, I don't need to fake.
"That means a lot, thank you, Sir," I reply. He leans back in his chair, his eyes not leaving me. He scratches his neatly groomed grey beard and takes in a sharp breath. Then, he turns to Marcus.
"I am confused, Marcus. We have multiple translators within our ranks. Many of them have the clearance to work on this case and the experience to go along with it. Miss Astor's skills are impressive, yes, but I don't understand what she has that our official agents don't."
"She's fresh, Commander," Marcus argues. "No politician has their claws in her yet."
"Are you saying that our own agents can't be trusted with confidentiality?" he asks.
"We both know the answer to that," Marcus replies, sounding exhausted.
"Ivy has the intelligence and skills for this. She's under the radar of those who want to interfere. Most of all, she has the potential to be shaped into whatever we need her to be. Based on her university records, she is an incredibly quick learner and the fact she speaks Athainian is a bonus. We would be stupid to throw away someone like her."
"Why did you learn Athainian, Miss Astor?" the commander asks.
"I thought it would be useful for future job prospects," I reply, keeping my voice from shaking.
The commander chuckles and nods his head. "Well, you weren't wrong there," he replies.
"Sir, just let her see the footage. Let her translate it for us. If she sees it, that means that the contents of what's on it remains between the three of us and isn't spread throughout the department and politicians."
"Why can't you fire those who talk?" I ask, frowning in confusion. "If one of your agents translates it and they are the only other person but the two of you who have seen the footage and then somehow, everyone knows about it, then you know one hundred per cent that they were the ones who broke their confidentiality."
"Too much bureaucracy, Miss Astor," the commander sighs.
"That, and we can't afford to waste anyone who can speak Athainian. It is a tricky language to master," Marcus says.
"And neither of you know it?" I ask, already knowing that Marcus can barely understand it, but not wanting to make it seem like I'm specifically targeting the commander.
He raises a brow at my question, but I don't back down. I do not want him to think I'm a weak pushover.
"I'm learning," the commander replies. "But, as you can imagine, I do not have much time in my schedule to learn a new language."
I almost scoff in disgust. What sort of leader of an intelligence agency doesn't speak the language of their main enemy? I know for a fact that Mr. Day can speak Etrayan as well as many other languages of both realms. I do not let my disgust show on my face.
The commander lets out a long sigh and rubs his temple.
"You're right," he says to Marcus. "I've had enough of political interference. I swear, this country is going to fall thanks to its own corrupt government before the Second Realm gets its hands on us."
"Is the political world really that bad?" I ask.
Marcus and the commander look between each other and then back at me. They don't answer me. Their silence is all I need to understand that the answer to that, is yes.
I wonder how much of the failings of the government and the corruption of politicians are from manipulations by other Second Realm spies. I almost smile at the thought of other Wraiths working hard to topple this government, making it implode before it can set course to invade our home.
"This once, Marcus, I'll let you have your way. Take Miss Astor and let her see the footage." He turns to me. "But don't think this will help you get the job within Mr. Kaiser's department. It won't give you any sort of advantage. You will have to go through the process just like everyone else."
"Of course, Sir," I say, nodding my head.
He leans forward and types something on his computer. The room is silent but for the clicking of the keys as he works. I can't help but pick at my nails in discomfort as I wait for him to speak.
"She's been cleared. But this stays between us. You tell no one that you were even here tonight, do you understand?" he asks me.
"Absolutely," I reply.
"This footage, officially, does not exist. Make sure it stays that way."
"Yes, Sir," we both reply. Marcus stands and gestures for me to do the same.
"I mean this, Miss Astor," the Commander says, the warning clear in his voice. The coldness in which he speaks sends a shiver down my spine. "You say nothing to anyone about any of this. If I catch wind you've opened your trap, then I will have you imprisoned for treason."
"I understand," I reply, looking into his eyes.
"Good. Now, get to work."
"Yes, Sir," we both say and turn and walk away from the desk. I take in a small breath and gulp, realising that I'm about to have to watch the footage of me killing someone, right in front of the person who is hunting me down.