Chapter 1

"You will be declared dead, Gregoria." That's what Agent Christian told me. My life as an FBI agent was about to end, replaced by a ghost. No contact with my past, not even my husband, Darwin.

But then, a week before my staged death, I walked into our home office and saw it: Darwin's laptop, open, displaying a live video feed. My husband, shirtless, with his assistant, Elyssa Daniel. They were kissing. My world tilted.

I watched, frozen, as he kissed her. The sounds they made were obscene. I recognized the unique lines of his body, the watch I gave him for our anniversary. I stumbled back, my hand shaking as I reached for my phone. I had to confront this nightmare.

I hit the call button. On the screen, Darwin froze, then answered my call. "Hey, honey. What's up?" His voice, so normal, so full of lies, broke something inside me. The phone slipped from my grasp. My heart, my love, my entire world had been a lie.

I spent the night on the office floor, replaying the video. The evidence of his betrayal was a digital tombstone for our marriage. Each time I watched, disgust and pain grew. I looked at my wedding ring, a mark of my foolishness, and threw it across the room.

He thought I was weak, predictable. He thought I loved him so much I'd believe the sky was green. But the woman who loved Darwin Mcintosh died on that office floor. And in that moment, my mission, my fake death, felt like an escape.

Chapter 1

"You will be declared dead, Gregoria."

Agent Christian' s voice was flat, leaving no room for emotion in the sterile briefing room.

"An accidental death. Tragic, unavoidable. Your life, as you know it, will end. No contact with anyone from your past. Not your friends, not your family. Not your husband."

The name hung in the air: Darwin. My husband. The man I loved more than my own life, a life I was now being asked to give up.

"I understand the risks, sir," I said, my voice steady. I was a professional. I was an FBI agent. This was the job.

But my hands, hidden under the table, were clenched into fists.

Christian nodded, his eyes showing a flicker of something-pity, maybe. He had been my mentor, the one who saw potential in a rookie agent and shaped me. He knew what he was asking. "This organization is dangerous. They have moles everywhere. To get inside, you have to be a ghost. Gregoria Ellis has to cease to exist."

"I'm ready," I said, and the words felt true. For the mission, I was ready. For my country, I was ready. But saying goodbye to Darwin... that was a different kind of sacrifice. A goodbye he would never even know was happening.

I would just... disappear from his life. He would mourn a wife who was still alive, living a new life under a new name, in a world of shadows he could never imagine.

The thought was a heavy weight in my chest.

After the briefing, I left the FBI building, a sense of finality washing over me. In one week, I would be dead. A strange feeling of relief settled in. The decision was made. The path was set. Now, all that was left was to walk it.

As I drove, my phone buzzed with a news alert. A picture of Darwin filled the small screen. He was smiling his charismatic smile, accepting an award for "Entrepreneur of the Year." The headline praised him as a philanthropic genius, a devoted husband, a pillar of the community.

Comments flooded the article.

"What a man! And so handsome."

"His wife is the luckiest woman alive."

"I wish I had a husband like Darwin Mcintosh."

A bitter taste filled my mouth. The luckiest woman alive. If only they knew what this lucky woman was about to do, the life she was about to abandon. The love she was about to betray, for the greater good.

My heart ached. I wanted to call him, to hear his voice one last time before I went dark. But I couldn't. Not yet.

My mind drifted back to the week before. I had come home early, planning a surprise dinner. I walked into our home office to grab a file and saw his laptop was open, the screen active.

He must have forgotten to close it.

I moved to shut it, but something on the screen caught my eye. It was a live video feed. A woman was laughing, her head thrown back.

Then a man entered the frame. Darwin. He was shirtless. His back was to the camera, but I knew every line of it. I knew the small, crescent-shaped scar on his left shoulder blade from a childhood fall.

He wrapped his arms around the woman, pulling her close. Her name was Elyssa Daniel. His assistant.

The world tilted. My breath caught in my throat. I watched, frozen, as he kissed her. The sounds they made were obscene, a violation of everything I thought we had.

My hand flew to my mouth to stifle a cry.

I recognized the unique lines of his body, the way he moved. It was him. Unquestionably him. The watch on his wrist was the one I gave him for our anniversary.

I stumbled back, my hand shaking as I reached for my phone. I had to call him. I had to confront this nightmare.

My finger hovered over his contact photo-a picture of us on our wedding day, smiling.

I hit the call button.

As the phone in my hand started to ring, the Darwin on the screen froze. He reached into his pocket, pulling out his own phone. The live feed abruptly cut to black.

A moment later, he answered my call. "Hey, honey. What's up?" His voice was casual, laced with the warmth I loved.

The sound of it, so normal, so full of lies, broke something inside me.

The phone slipped from my grasp and clattered onto the floor. I couldn't breathe. My heart, my love, my entire world had been a lie.

I spent the rest of the night on the floor of the office, replaying the video over and over. I had instinctively hit record the moment I realized what I was seeing. The evidence of his betrayal was now a file on my phone, a small, digital tombstone for our marriage.

Each time I watched it, the disgust and pain grew, a poison spreading through my veins.

I looked at my wedding ring, the simple gold band he had placed on my finger. It felt like a brand, a mark of my foolishness. I twisted it off and threw it across the room. It hit the wall with a small, pathetic clink.

I remembered a conversation from years ago. A friend of his had cheated on his wife. Darwin had been furious.

"I would never," he had sworn to me, his eyes sincere. "If I ever broke your trust, Gregoria, I'd deserve the worst this world has to offer."

And I had believed him. I, a trained FBI agent, an expert in deception, had been blind to the biggest lie of all.

When I finally dragged myself out of the office, the sun was rising. I found him in the kitchen, humming as he made breakfast. The smell of coffee and pancakes, once a comfort, now made me sick.

"Morning, beautiful," he said, turning to me with that same perfect smile. He pulled me into a hug, his arms strong and familiar.

It felt like being embraced by a stranger.

My body went rigid. I wanted to scream, to claw at him, to show him the video and watch his perfect mask crumble.

But the mission. Agent Christian's words echoed in my head. Gregoria Ellis has to cease to exist.

And in that moment, I realized she already had. The woman who loved Darwin Mcintosh died on the office floor last night.

"I made your favorite," he said, gesturing to a plate of chocolate chip pancakes.

"I hate chocolate chips in my pancakes," I said, my voice dead.

He froze, his smile faltering for a second. "You do?" He forced a laugh. "Right, of course. I forgot. I must have been thinking of Elyssa, she loves them."

He said her name so easily. The name of the woman he was sleeping with. He didn't even realize his mistake.

A cold, heavy calm settled over me. He didn't know me. Maybe he never had.

"It doesn't matter," I said, turning away from him. "I'm not hungry."

I needed to get out of there. I needed to breathe air that wasn't thick with his lies.

"Are you okay, Gregoria?" he asked, his voice laced with manufactured concern. "You seem... distant."

I looked at him, at the handsome face I once adored, and felt nothing but a vast, empty coldness.

"Just tired," I lied. "Long week."

He wrapped his arms around me from behind, resting his chin on my shoulder. "Don't worry," he whispered into my ear. "The weekend is almost here. Just you and me. I promise."

A promise. From him, the word was a joke.

In one week, I would be dead. And he would be free to be with her. The thought should have destroyed me.

Instead, it felt like the beginning of my own freedom.