Chapter 1

For ten years, Andrew Scott was my world. He was the one who pulled me from the wreckage of my life after my father died.

My father was a hero, a CIA legend. Drew was his best friend, his protégé. When my father' s plane went down over Eastern Europe, it was Drew who came to the door, his face a mask of grief. He was just a rising star then, not the Director he is now.

He became my legal guardian. He was the one who held me when I cried, the one who made sure I did my homework, the one who promised to keep me safe.

That promise became a cage.

The warmth I had for him, the simple adoration of a child for her protector, changed when I turned eighteen. I saw the way he looked at me when he thought I wasn't watching. I felt the tension in the air whenever we were alone.

I was a fool. I thought it was love.

So I acted on it. One night, in the quiet of his Georgetown study, I kissed him. For a moment, he kissed me back, a desperate, hungry kiss that made my whole body catch fire.

Then he pushed me away. His face was pale, his eyes wide with something I mistook for fear but now know was disgust.

"This is wrong, Gabby," he' d said, his voice rough. "This can never happen. You are my ward. I am your guardian. Think of your future."

His future, he meant.

He sent me away to Georgetown. And to make sure I understood my place, he got engaged. To Molly Clarkson, a Senator' s daughter, the perfect political match.

He even tried to marry me off to a diplomat' s son, a move to secure an alliance. That was the final break.

I was not a pawn to be moved around his chessboard. I was my father' s daughter.

To prove it, to prove I was more than just the girl he raised, I volunteered for the one mission no one else wanted. A deep-cover operation to get close to Viktor Morozov, the oligarch who had destabilized the very region my father died in.

I would earn his respect. I would show him I was worthy.

Three years I spent in that cold, brutal world. I fed the CIA everything. I dismantled Morozov' s empire from the inside.

In the end, he found me out.

His men dragged me to a cold, damp cellar. The last thing I saw was the fury in Morozov' s eyes. The last thing I heard was the gunshot.

My last thought was of Drew.

A soft voice pulled me from the darkness.

"Gabrielle Fuller."

I opened my eyes. I was in a place of gray mist, standing before a figure that shimmered like heat off a summer road. It was neither male nor female, just a presence. A guide.

"Your sacrifice was great," it said, its voice echoing in my head. "For your country, you gave your life. Because of this, a boon is granted."

I didn't understand. I felt nothing. No pain, no fear. Just an empty calm.

"You have seven days," the guide continued. "Seven days to return to the world of the living as an unseen spirit. To find peace. To resolve your earthly attachments before you must move on."

My only attachment was Drew.

"I accept," I whispered.

The gray mist swirled, and the world dissolved.