Let Mercy Come by +Zee Monodee
Corpus Brides #3: The Conclusion
Romantic Suspense
Let mercy come
...and wash away our
sins...
A woman on the run
Valeriya Morozova has managed to carve out a do-over for
herself away from the clutches of the Corpus
agency. The one formerly known as Anastasiya still lives on the edge, paranoid
anyone will bust her secret and turn her in. Agency leaders believe her to be
at the heart of the failed mutinous plot to overtake command, and the price of
that betrayal—never mind that she is innocent—will be her life, paid in blood.
A man who’s always
followed orders
In his decades inside the Corpus agency, case officer and former super-spy Graeme Whitman—aka
Scott—has always paid heed to rules and obeyed all his orders. When he is
chosen to bring the traitor Anastasiya back into the fold, Scott knows it will
be just one more job he will successfully complete. After all, doing the right
thing is atonement for your past mistakes, right?
Secrets running deep
Scott has secrets; who doesn’t? But he isn’t prepared for
the full cupboard of skeletons Anastasiya carries with her...starting with the
reason why she ran away from the agency. The more he digs, the less he is
certain of, until he comes to ask himself why everyone has falsely painted her
as a hard-hearted sociopath.
But is Anastasiya a victim, or a skilful manipulator? When
her past collides with her present, the future as both she and Scott conceived
it shatters. They’ve answered the call of duty all their lives—will they have
to make the ultimate sacrifice in the name of love?
{2 Excerpts. Pick One please}
EXCERPT 1
“Why did you run, Ana?”
She hitched in a breath. That’s the
nickname he’d used— Don’t. Think. Of.
That.
“Antonia. Nothing mattered except her. She
wouldn’t grow up inside the agency, and I wouldn’t let anyone take her from
me.”
“There was nothing else?”
“That wasn’t enough?” she shot back at him.
He sighed again. “Things have been
happening inside the organization.”
“What kind of things?”
He stared at her. “Mutiny.”
“What?” Surprise dropped like an anvil over
her and she stumbled to the bed, where she fell into a heap next to him. “You
must be joking!”
“Sadly, no. You didn’t notice anything back
in there? It never struck you that something could be amiss?”
She turned to face him. “Something was amiss, Scott—I was pregnant, about
to bring an innocent, defenceless child into this fucked up existence of being
a Corpus agent. Excuse me for not
thinking of anything beside that.”
“Speaking of, who’s her father?”
She steeled herself to answer this
question...with a non-answer. “Why did you have to fake your death?”
Had he noticed she’d evaded the query?
He remained silent for long seconds, before
he responded. “You recall the Stepanovic case in Marseille, a little over a
year ago? Nothing was going as planned there, and it even ended in a case
death.”
She nodded. “No conclusive evidence, no
influence worked, and he even disappeared after a while. Total failure for us
on that one, I remember. The boss hadn’t been pleased.”
“You’ll also recall it’s not the only case
that fell off the wayside around that period.”
She frowned. “Now that you mention it...”
“Someone from the inside was letting those
criminals walk away. Fey had also disappeared; we suspected she’d gone rogue.”
She winced upon hearing that name. How
she’d hated that woman, because Fey had worked with Scott and had managed to
snare him into her bed a long time ago. She’d had everything Valeriya had ever
wanted for herself.
“Then someone targeted Kali.”
“Oh, my God! Is she okay? She isn’t...?”
“She’s fine. Her agent status burned, but
she’s alive, living like a civilian now in Notting Hill with her husband.”
A sigh of relief rushed out of her.
Kali—aka Rayne Cheltham—had been her best friend inside the Corpus. Right before cutting and running
from Prague, she’d done all she could to save the life of Ash, Rayne’s husband,
who’d been hit by a rogue bullet when he’d walked in on one of her operations.
Rayne, the only person she’d informed of
her leaving, without giving her any details as to why. Her friend must now
think the worst of her.
And so must Scott, and everyone else.
Clarity suddenly beamed in her mind.
“You think I had anything to do with this?”
Only someone on the upper echelons of the organization could’ve pulled this
mutiny through, what with having access to case files and their whole arsenal.
And she had disappeared right after Rayne
got burned.
That’s why Scott had been looking for her.
EXCERPT 2
She closed the distance between them to go
stand right in front of him. She had her out; would he listen to her, though?
“Then let us go, Scott. Antonia and I can
disappear. You don’t need to put your life on hold because of us. Seth, your
son, he needs you.”
“I can’t do that,” he murmured.
“Why not? If this is atonement for you,
then I’m asking you to let us go. Do this and you’ll be free.”
“I don’t want to be free.”
She blinked. “What?”
“Not when you are, too.”
He’d completely lost her there. She glanced
up into his face, and the breath whooshed out of her at what she saw on his
face. Pain, but of a different kind. The type that accompanied unrequited
longing for another person.
She shook her head. I must be getting delusional. Why would Scott—
All thoughts screeched to a halt when he
brought a big hand up and gingerly cradled one side of her jaw in that warm
palm.
“Forgive me for saying this, Ana, but I’ve
wanted a future with you ever since the first day I saw you.”
A small puff of air escaped her.
He smiled as his eyes took a faraway glint.
“You looked so prim and proper in that white lab blouse. Still so young, but
your eyes... They said you had lived a long life already, that you had a lot
concealed behind the façade you showed the world. Then you looked up and asked
me—”
“...did you have a choice to be here?” She
remembered that instant probably more vividly than he did.
He gave a lazy blink, as of coming back
into the moment to stare at her in the now. “I had one back then, and I have
one now. That day, I chose duty. Today, I choose you, Ana.”
“Scott—”
“Graeme. My name is Graeme.” He rubbed the
pad of his thumb along her cheekbone. “Say it. I want to hear you say it.”
She parted her lips. He’d trusted her with
his real identity, and if she believed all he’d said until now...
“Graeme,” she said softly.
He closed his eyes as he took in that
sound; at least, that’s what it seemed like to her.
“Graeme, please...”
He opened his eyes and peered at her. “What
is it?”
When his touch on her cheek lost some of
its pressure, all the life inside of her ebbed away like the tide gathering for
a tsunami. It took everything from her. If she lost him now, when he’d showed
her how much he wanted—no, needed!—her, she would die.
She had to show him. That’s when she
reckoned her body had gone stiff from the second he’d touched her, petrified in
surprise, and he must have gathered her response as being this aloofness in her
body language.
He was wrong. Oh, so wrong!
First step; she’d have to take it.
So Valeriya listened to her heart, and she
brought a hand up to clasp his where it had started to recede from her jaw. She
pressed her cheek into his palm, soaking in his warmth.
“Graeme, please...” She glanced up into his
eyes. “Kiss me.”
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Author, editor, smitten wife, in-over-her-head mum to a tween boy,
best-buddy stepmum to a teenage lad, bookaholic, lover of all things fluffy
& pink, chronic shoeholic, incompetent housewife desperate to channel
Nigella Lawson (and who’ll prolly always fail at making domestic goddess
status)...
Zee hails from the multicultural, rainbow-nation island of
Mauritius, in the southern Indian Ocean, where she grew up on the figurative
fence—one side had her ancestors’ Indian and Muslim culture; the other had
modernity and the global village. When one day she realised she could dip her
toes into both sides without losing her integrity, she found her identity.
This quest for ‘finding your place’ is what she attempts to bring
in all her stories, across all the genres she writes. Her heroines represent
today’s women trying to reconcile love, life, & relationships in a
melting pot of cultures, while her heroes are Alpha men who often get put back
into their rightful place by the headstrong women she writes. Love is always a
winner in her stories, though; that’s a given.
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