His voice was a jagged blade of fury.

"Think playing house with William Graham is clever? Do you honestly think you can make me jealous with that stunt?"

He let out a cold, hollow laugh. "Don't forget who pulled you out of the fire when those terrorists had a knife to your throat. You’re nothing without me."

I gripped the phone, my jaw set. Silence was my only weapon.

In the background, Sabrina Cole’s saccharine voice drifted through the line: "Roman, hurry up! The cake won't cut itself!"

Roman hummed a soft, placating sound in her direction before returning to me. "We’ve got joint drills coming up, Sabrina and I. Once it's over, I'll clear up the public rumors. Stop being dramatic. Be a good girl and wait at home tonight. I’m bringing your favorite—mango cake."

My thoughts drifted to the ghosts of our past.

Roman Armstrong hadn't always been this cold iron. He’d joined the military after the top brass caught sight of him at our press conference. I’d fought him on it then. His heart was in research; stepping into the military meant walking away from that dream forever. But he’d gone behind my back, pleading his case to the General.

Afterward, he’d wrapped his arms around me, his eyes rimmed with red. "Genevieve, I won’t let you live a life of struggle. I want to earn my stripes, to build a future where you don’t have to want for anything."

He’d discarded his dream for me, burying himself in brutal, endless training. Our lives grew distant, splintered by conflicting missions. When the first rumors of him and his little protégé cropped up, he’d driven seven hours through the night to our field hospital, begging for forgiveness, swearing it was all a misunderstanding. He’d promised he’d fix it, told me not to overthink it.

I’d begged him to make us public. He’d claimed it would ruin his image, that the higher-ups would lose faith in him. It wasn't the right time. He swore I was the only one.

I chose to trust him. I chose to wait.

Then came Sabrina Cole.

She was the ultimate "little white flower," fragile and innocent. She’d gotten caught in a scuffle during a mission, stumbled into the water, and Roman had plucked her out. She’d spent the rest of the night shivering in his arms.

By morning, the rumors were a wildfire.

Roman hadn't said a word to defend me.

The phone call clicked dead. I stared at the blank screen for a heartbeat, my pulse slow and steady. I didn’t waste energy on tears; I picked up the phone and dialed HR. If I was going abroad, I was burning every bridge to Roman Armstrong first.

I didn't expect him home that night. I certainly didn't expect him to walk through the front door with Sabrina Cole trailing like a shadow at his heels.