Shadows of Loyalty

Chapter 14

The manor was large, old, and secluded—nestled in the English countryside like a secret the world had long forgotten. The storm clouds rolled low over the treetops as Quinn stood outside on the terrace, letting the cold wind whip through his hair. He needed the fresh air, needed to feel something solid beneath him after everything that had happened.

Inside, Calvin’s manor was as secure as it was luxurious. Reinforced walls, hidden weapons caches, encrypted communication rooms—Calvin didn’t do safehouses by halves.

Quinn leaned against the railing, replaying Alicia’s betrayal over and over in his mind. The way she’d held him right before she tried to kill him… It made his blood boil. He hadn't slept since they'd landed, and now the weight of it all gnawed at his chest like a rusted blade.

He heard soft footsteps behind him. Without turning, he knew who it was.

Sasha stepped onto the terrace, wearing a dark tank top and loose combat pants. The cold didn’t seem to bother her. Her arm was now bare, revealing a tattoo that caught Quinn’s eye immediately.

The tattoo wrapped intricately around her entire arm, starting at the shoulder and flowing seamlessly down to the wrist. The design was rich with mandala and henna-inspired floral elements, exuding a delicate balance of symmetry and sensual complexity. At the shoulder cap, a large mandala blossom bloomed like a sacred flower—its petals arranged in a circular pattern symbolizing harmony and spiritual balance.

From there, the ink unfurled in trailing vines and ornamental curves, mimicking jewelry chains draped around the arm. Dotted line work connected each section like strings of beads, giving it an ethereal, feminine elegance. Paisley shapes and layered petals covered her forearm, with darker shading at the center of each curve to give depth and contrast. Intermittent gemstone-like designs appeared in teardrop and oval shapes, some encased in ornate frames, hinting at hidden value—like secrets etched in ink. The wrist ended in a fine flourish, almost like the final stitch of a long-forgotten spell.

She said nothing at first, simply gazing out over the forest with him.

“You know what I hate most about all this?” Quinn finally asked.

Sasha glanced at him. “That she almost got away with it?”

He shook his head. “That I let her in.”

A pause.

“You’re not the first,” she said simply. “And you won’t be the last.”

They both stood in silence until Calvin’s voice called them from inside.

They made their way into the central war room. Gary was already there, seated and scrolling through satellite footage on a secure monitor. Calvin stood by the fireplace, arms folded, eyes locked on Quinn.

“We’ve got a problem,” Calvin said, wasting no time.

“Just one?” Gary muttered.

Calvin’s voice was low, but carried weight. “Langley just lit up with a red-level alert. Files have been pulled. Digital traces wiped. You and Gary? You’re ghosts now—on the wrong side of the hunt.” He paused. “And it wasn’t an accident.”

Quinn’s jaw clenched, but he stayed quiet.

Calvin continued, “Mason's running interference, trying to buy us time. But the CIA is mobilizing, and they’ve got an entire team on the move. It won’t take them long to find this place if we stay too long.”

Quinn paced. “So what’s the play?”

Calvin pointed to the screen. “This. I’ve got eyes on someone who might be connected to the file dump Alicia initiated. A tech broker in Amsterdam. Off the grid, dirty hands, but he might have what we need to trace who else is involved.”

“I’ll go,” Sasha said immediately.

“No,” Quinn cut in. “We both go.”

She raised a brow. “You sure you’re ready?”

He looked her dead in the eyes. “I don’t have the luxury of not being ready.”

Gary leaned back in his chair. “I’ll hold down the manor with Calvin. If anyone shows, we’ll know.”

Calvin nodded. “Two days max. In and out. If you’re not back by then—”

“We’ll be back,” Quinn interrupted. “We’re not done yet.”

That night, the manor felt too quiet. Too still.

Quinn sat by the window in one of the guest rooms, staring into the shadows. Sleep didn’t come. Not anymore. His mind kept racing back to Berlin—where he and Alicia had first met. It wasn’t a happy accident or some romantic twist of fate. It was a mission.

A mission she had orchestrated from the very beginning.

He heard a soft knock.

“Come in,” he said without looking.

Sasha stepped inside. Her expression unreadable, her body relaxed, but her eyes sharp.

“You should rest,” she said.

He nodded, though he didn’t move.

She lingered by the door a moment, then stepped further in. “Back in Russia,” she said softly, “when I was fifteen, I trained with a boy. We weren’t supposed to feel anything. That was the rule. But I did. We were good together—in the field, and out. When a mission went south, he risked everything to save me.”

Quinn looked at her.

“He got shot. Bled out in my arms,” she continued, voice flat. “And the agency? They said I was a liability, they shot me and left me for dead. That’s when Calvin found me.”

“I’m sorry,” Quinn said quietly.

She gave a small shrug. “I learned a valuable lesson that day. Emotions get you killed. You either get up… or you die.”

Silence stretched between them again.

Quinn glanced at Sasha again. “If you could do it all over... would you have chosen this life?”

She didn’t answer right away. Her eyes drifted toward the large manor window, where the rain tapped softly against the glass. “I didn’t get to choose,” she said finally. “But if I could... I think I’d still pick the fight. I just wish it hadn’t cost so much.”

Quinn let her words settle between them. “Sometimes I wonder if I’m even fighting the right war.”

Sasha turned to him, her gaze sharp and knowing. “We don’t get to have peace, Quinn. People like us—we're always at war.”

He nodded slowly, the weight of it all pressing down on his chest. “Then let’s make sure it’s for something that matters.”