Heartless, An Option Zero Novel

The biggest secrets are often held by those we trust the most.

Nicholas Hawthorne, code name Hawke, has lived in the shadows most of his life. The night he met Olivia Gates, a bright light pierced the darkness, and his life was never the same. Opposites in everything except what mattered, they formed an extraordinary bond based on mutual goals, unfailing trust, and most of all love. Their partnership was legendary, their devotion to each other unshakable. They believed nothing could tear them apart. But evil has a way of seeking out perfection with the intent to destroy.

Evil thought it had won.

Olivia Gates learned betrayal at an early age, and life had taught her that nothing was permanent or perfect. When she met Hawke, all those lessons went out the window. He was her soul mate, the other half of her heart. She would love him forever, no matter what. But forever is a long time. How could she have forgotten that betrayal can shatter a heart in an instant?

Returning from the dead was never Hawke’s intent. The elaborate ruse was staged for myriad reasons, but now he has no choice but to come in from the cold. Enemies he’s spent years hunting are on the move, and catching them is his sole focus. The woman he loves—the woman he would die for—is their primary target, and he’ll do whatever it takes to keep her safe. The fact that she hates him cannot hinder his goal.

As enemies surround them, Hawke and Olivia have a choice to make—let the past destroy them forever or join forces and fight the enemy together.

Their love is eternal, but survival is optional.

Chapter One

Present Day
Mexico City, Mexico

The bearded man moved through the zealous, celebratory crowd. No one paid him attention. No one saw anything he didn’t want them to see. He noticed everyone…aware of every movement, every nuance. Every face, every gesture was observed and measured. Threats could come from anywhere, anyone. Some of the most lethal came wrapped in silk and satin. He knew this all too well.

His face was obscured by a heavy beard, a baseball cap covered his brown hair, and his clothes were dark, unassuming. Everything about him said he was alone and wanted to stay that way. No one would dare approach him. He was barely a face in the crowd.

Nicholas Hawthorne, or Hawke to everyone who knew him, had been moving through cities and countries like this for half his life. It was second nature, and if a part of him felt as if this was his destiny, another part believed it was his punishment. He had glimpsed heaven, and instead of hanging on to it with all his might, he’d allowed it to drift away. Now it was merely a memory—perhaps even a fantasy. Had it ever been real?

The pain had been real, that was for damn sure.

A flash of golden hair caught his eye. The din around him ceased to exist. He held his breath. His only awareness was the hard pounding of his heart followed by an ache so deep and raw he felt it to his bones.

The woman slowly turned, and for a scant moment, his heart and breath stopped. An odd combination of joy mixed with rage surged through him. She shouldn’t be here… It was too dangerous. How had she found him? How did she know—

Seconds later, his mind acknowledged that he was looking at the face of a stranger.

Breath rattled through his chest in an exhalation of both relief and disappointment. And if that wasn’t the stupidest reaction, he didn’t know what was.

He shook it off, and life around him resumed.

He was long past seeing her face every time he spotted a golden-haired woman, but on occasion, the steel that encased his heart weakened, the longing would seep inside, and he would see her everywhere. The flash of a slender hand as a woman spoke with animation. Husky laughter that sounded both joyous and sensuous. And the hair—glorious golden hair, which had often draped over his bare chest when they’d lain in bed. He used to complain, jokingly, that she slept on him more than she slept on the bed. He hadn’t minded, though. Opening his eyes first thing in the morning and seeing her head nestled against him, her hair splayed over him, had been one of the delights of his life.

Cursing himself for getting lost in the memories, he continued toward his destination. The clock was ticking. If this didn’t pay off this time, if he didn’t get the intel he needed to put these bastards down once and for all, then he would have to do what he had sworn he would never do. He was going to have to return from the dead.

Being dead had held many advantages. He could see events no one thought he could see, do things no one could imagine could be done—all because he didn’t exist.

Some part of him was desperate to return—it was a need he fought against daily. He wanted answers. A no-holds-barred, face-to-face confrontation until truth bled all over them. He’d been waiting too long.

Another part, though, told him he already knew the truth, and he’d gotten exactly what he deserved.

He stopped a half block from his destination and studied the area. Not the safest neighborhood, but not the worst either. Tall buildings with offices for various businesses blended with smaller structures holding tattoo parlors, delis, and pawn shops. At half past one in the morning, this area of the city was quiet except for those looking to cause trouble.

According to his intel, the meeting was to take place in one of the taller buildings up the block. He noted that the building was dark with the exception of the third floor. Understandably, a meeting between a major drug cartel and the Mexican Mafia needed secrecy as well as privacy. With no visible vehicles or people around, the light could simply be evidence of a cleaning crew. But Hawke knew that was not the case. There were likely more than a dozen hidden soldiers from both sides looking for threats.

Since he didn’t have his own army—or a death wish—he had no intention of causing any problems. As far as he was concerned, the meeting could go on without a hitch. He was, in fact, happy that it was taking place. It was the aftermath of the meeting that most concerned him. Because in there, in the midst of the meeting of evil, there were answers. And he was damn well going to get them or die trying.

Knowing any kind of sudden movement this close to the building would attract attention, Hawke ducked into an alleyway. He still had a good line of sight, but any lookouts wouldn’t be able to spot him from here. Leaning against the wall, he crossed his arms and waited. The meeting was likely about to commence. Who knew how long it would last? Hell, he wasn’t completely sure what the meeting was supposed to accomplish. He knew only that the Gonzalez cartel had envoys inside, and one of them was about to have a really bad night.

Shifting his leg, he winced at the twinge in his knee. Last night’s workout had been rougher than usual. His physical therapist had warned him not to overdo, but it had felt good at the time. Now, not so much. A twisted, bitter part of him relished the pain. It was a grim but good reminder of everything he’d lost and every single lie he had believed.

His eyes stayed focused on the third floor. He could see shadows moving by the windows—guards, most likely. He spotted a few on the ground level. Their cigarettes glowed like beacons in the dark. Arrogant idiots thought they were invisible.

An hour later, he spotted more activity. SUVs rolled in front of the building, and multiple people piled inside. Hawke inched closer. Thanks to his informant, the vehicle his target was driving would have a fluorescent glow on the left rear tire.

If one individual knew the goings-on of the major new player in drug trafficking, it would be the head of security for the Gonzalez cartel. The man would have attended every meeting. He should be able to tell Hawke exactly where the cartel was getting its funding and who was running the operation.

His stride swift but steady, he stayed in the shadows and moved toward his target. Ten feet away, he spotted him. Dressed in dark clothing, his head covered with a hoodie, the man definitely didn’t want to attract attention. Two odd things struck Hawke simultaneously. One, the man was surprisingly smaller than he’d anticipated. The guy couldn’t be over five seven or weigh more than one thirty soaking wet.

Second, this was way too easy. The man was alone—all other security personnel had sped away. Was this a trap? Had he been set up once again?

He had a split-second decision to make—call off this op and try again some other time, or take his chances and complete the capture. There really was no decision to make, though. This had been going on for way too long. He wanted answers, and this man had them.

Hawke sprang into action. Grabbing hold of the man’s arm, he jerked him backward and threw a hood over his head. The man let loose a string of muffled curses and kicked back. Hawke managed to avoid a groin kick, but the kick to his knee almost took him to the ground.

Growling furiously, he said, “Calm down, or I’ll knock you out.”

The man stopped struggling and went ominously still. Hawke didn’t loosen his hold, but a new knowledge was hitting him, and his mind scoured for answers. Before he could comprehend the ramifications, a sharp elbow jabbed his gut.

Cursing softly, he held his captive tight with one arm, and with his other, he grabbed the syringe in his pocket. He hadn’t planned on being this gentle. A concussion, bloodletting, or a few broken bones had been part of his plan. Not anymore.

His hold tight, he pressed the syringe into his captive’s neck, making sure only half its contents were dispensed. At half the weight he’d expected, the smaller dosage should be more than enough to ensure unconsciousness for several hours.

As the body in his arms slumped, he loosened his hold and then lowered his captive to the ground. His curiosity piqued, he ripped off the hood, wanting to see just who he had captured.

What the hell?

Breath caught in his lungs, and a gnawing pit of dread developed in his gut. While a whole new set of questions whirled in his thoughts, the question of whether he would have to return from the dead had just been answered.

There was no way he could stay away now.

Read Their Beginning: A deleted scene from Heartless

Their Beginning

Bavaria, Germany

“Sorry I’m late, my darling. Forgive me?”

Olivia Gates stiffened at the mesmerizing voice in her ear. She turned slightly but was prevented from moving further by a large hand on her shoulder.

“Help a fellow countryman out?” The voice held an urgency she immediately responded to. Warm breath caressed her as he added, “I’ll explain later.”

She had no idea the identity of the man or what he looked like, but the timbre of his voice had sent an electric zing down her spine. While her instincts told her to push the stranger aside, a stronger impulse told her to play it out. He wasn’t a fellow countryman. Even though he had an excellent British accent, it was almost too perfect. American, maybe? Hadn’t she detected the slightest twang or maybe a drawl?

“Sir, may I see your invitation?” One of the many castle guards, who roamed the event looking for intruders, asked in thickly accented English.

Olivia managed to turn a little more in her chair and gave the guard a haughty look. “He is with me.”

“Of course,” the guard backed away. “My apologies.”

“Thank you,” the stranger said softly.

Finally allowed to fully turn, she was able to see the man she just saved from being thrown out of the gala or worse. Her first thought was that his voice matched his face. Both were rough and mesmerizing. High cheekbones, a blade of a nose, deep-set eyes the color of an icy winter’s sky, chiseled chin, and a full, sensuous mouth. The close-cut beard added a rakish flair. He wasn’t classically handsome—his features were a little too strong for beauty—but if there were a thousand people in front of her, Olivia knew her eyes would immediately zero in on this man.

The black tuxedo he wore did nothing to soften his features. In fact, the starkness only added a darker edge to his overall persona. He was tall—maybe six-three—and muscular—the fit of his designer tux couldn’t hide his broad shoulders. He looked strong and powerful—a warrior dressed in the camouflage of fine Italian tailoring.

He wasn’t one of the pretty people who attended the gala to see and be seen. She could tell that in an instant. Despite the amusement gleaming in his eyes, his expression was solemn and serious. No, he was definitely here for a purpose. She might not know who he was or why he was here, but one thing she did know: This man was dangerous.

Pulling her eyes away from his arresting face, her gaze briefly swept the room. There were dozens of women he could have approached. Instead, he had come to her. Why?

Returning her gaze to him, she didn’t bother to hide her suspicion. “You said you’re a fellow countryman. How did you know I was British?”

“I heard you order your drink.”

“And how did you know I would help you?”

“I took a chance.”

Intrigued, she tilted her head. That wasn’t the truth, but she didn’t press him on it.

“What about you?” he asked.

“What about me?”

“Why did you help me?”

Since she couldn’t tell him that his rough, gravelly voice stirred something deep within her, she told him another truth. “I’ve needed help from strangers before. I was paying it forward.”

A raised brow told him he questioned the veracity of her explanation but thankfully he didn’t call her out.

“So now that I’ve claimed you...” When his eyebrows raised a fraction at her statement, Olivia hurriedly amended it. “Now that we are viewed as a couple, where do we go from here?”

“Where would you like to go?”

“You’re not one for answering questions, are you?”

“About as much as you are.” The words were accompanied by a slow half grin, transforming his harsh features into heart-stoppingly attractive. Her breath caught and an odd little flip happened deep within her belly. Oh yes, this man was dangerous in more ways than one.

Having this kind of reaction to any man while she was on a job went against everything she’d been taught. Stay focused, stay on course. Do not deter from your assignment in any way, shape, or form. Funnily enough, her training had never covered fascinating strangers who made her heart rate soar and stole her breath.

The thought brought her up short. She was here for one purpose. Getting caught up with anyone, no matter how handsome or intriguing was not it. However, since her job was already complete, was there any reason she couldn’t indulge in a light flirtation? She couldn’t leave early, as it would cause speculation. Staying with him would certainly add to her cover.

She was perfectly aware that she was trying to justify her out-of-character actions. That didn’t stop her from giving him a smile that was designed to melt hearts of stone. “Perhaps if we dance, we will both be more forthcoming.”

He gave her a strange, oddly intense look. “Who are you?”

The sane, no-nonsense, eye on the job at all times part of Olivia told her to back away. The danger lurking behind those intense eyes cautioned that this could come back and bite her later. Another part, the vulnerable, softer side that she almost never listened to or even acknowledged, told her she could take this moment for herself. That there was no harm.

“Do names really matter?” she asked softly. “Can’t we just be two people enjoying ourselves as if we haven’t a care in the world?”

For several breathless moments he stared. Thanking heaven he couldn’t see her pounding heart, Olivia managed to maintain eye contact. When he finally answered, “Yes, I believe we can,” she released a silent breath of relief.

Holding out his hand, he gave her that slow, easy smile, and the heart she barely even acknowledged that she possessed was lost forever.

 

Hawke took her slender hand and knew a moment of otherworldliness. Not something he knew much about. He dealt in real world problems and solutions, and whole lot of harsh realities. There was nothing fanciful or the least bit pretty in his life. So why now? Why this woman? Of course she was lovely, but there were plenty of other women here just as attractive. Yet there was something both mesmerizing and sweet about this one.

When he’d entered the room moments ago, he’d heard her order a drink and his heart had responded with an odd stuttering. His eyes had searched until they’d found the owner of that soft, almost musical sound. He hadn’t been disappointed.

Ignoring the warning in his head that getting distracted during a mission was not a good idea, he’d headed straight for her. And now that he’d met her, he was having all these fantasies about nuzzling the nape of her soft, slender neck, threading his fingers through the long, blonde tresses that covered her creamy bare shoulders, and tasting her full pink lips.

Holding her firm, fragrant body against his would come at a price and Hawke suddenly realized he was willing to pay it.

Pulling her forward, he led her to the dance floor. Dozens of other couples were gliding around the floor and though he was always aware of danger or threats, he couldn’t deny his loss of focus for just these brief moments. He’d never had this feeling before and just this once he wanted to indulge in the impossible.

The instant she went into his arms, Hawke knew he was in trouble. This stuff didn’t happen to him. He had no time for flirtations. There was nothing lighthearted or beautiful in the dark gritty world he inhabited. Maybe that was why he found her so fascinating.

Denying duty wasn’t something he’d ever considered and despite the beauty in his arms, it wasn’t about to happen now. However, she was a good cover. Disappearing so soon after arriving would not be wise. Even as he acknowledged that he was trying to rationalize keeping her in his arms a little longer, he realized he just didn’t care. He only knew he couldn’t let her go. At least not yet.

He drew her deeper into his arms and lowered his head so that his jaw touched her cheek. Her skin was petal soft, and she smelled like sunlight and springtime.

“If you won’t tell me your name,” he murmured softly, “what should I call you?”

Tilting her head back, she smiled up at him. “Are you going to call me?”

“I might if I knew your name.”

“Perhaps I will call you instead.”

“Will you?”

“Maybe. Let’s see how well you dance, then we’ll see.”

“Dancing is that important to you?”

“Dance partners are.”

“Then I’ll do my best not to disappoint.”

Warm breath teased his ear. “I’m counting on it,” she whispered.

He could feel her body soften as she relaxed in his arms. “This is nice.”

“Yes, it is,” he said quietly.

“You’re a very good dancer.”

“Thank you. Does that mean you’ll tell me your name?”

Velvet lips trailed across his jaw. “Keep dancing and we’ll see.”

A hardened soldier rarely experienced magic, but it was the only description he could come up with to describe the moment. She was mysterious and exotic—a flame burning bright.

And without a shadow of doubt Hawke knew that if he weren’t extremely careful, he would get singed.

 

This was one of the most momentous moments in her life. For a girl who’d never experienced one ounce of enchantment in her too structured existence, it was a heady feeling. As they whirled around the dance floor, Olivia lost herself in the extraordinary feeling. She was a princess at a ball. Her mysterious dance partner was no handsome young prince but she was glad of that. She had never wanted a prince.

While the music flowed around them, Olivia leaned into the hard warmth and closed her eyes. You could tell so much from dancing with someone, and she was learning a lot about the man who held her close. For one, he was a superb dancer. He guided her around the dance floor with the skill of a man who’d been ballroom dancing for years. Secondly, he was a man of confidence, of determination. There was no hesitancy or uncertainty in his movements. He knew what he wanted and how to go about getting it. Thirdly, he was in excellent physical condition. Not the massive muscles of a body builder but perhaps of a trained fighter. Everywhere she touched felt steely hard and conditioned for battle.

Though the other men in the ballroom were similarly dressed, that was where the similarities stopped. Many of them were in good physical shape but compared to this man, they were weekend warriors or had a personal trainer. This man was different. He gave off the vibe of relaxed sophistication, but she didn’t doubt he could move with lethal swiftness if necessary.

She had grown up with men such as this. For her entire life she had been surrounded by men and women who faced danger, fought hard and won. This was such a man.

But was he friend or foe? Enemy or comrade? He had sought her out for a reason. Did he know who she was? Had he come here to stop her? It was too late for that. The deed was already done but that didn’t mean the job was over. She still had to get out of here without getting caught. There was a plan in place for that, but this man was an unknown entity. How would he react?

Was she going to have to eliminate the most fascinating man she’d ever met?

“You’ve tensed up.”

She drew her head back to look up at him. “What?”

“You were relaxed. Moving in perfect synchronicity with me. Now you’re stiff as if you’re expecting trouble any second.”

He read her all too well.

“I’m beginning to think this was a bad idea.”

Impossibly, he drew her closer. “How could anything that feels this good be a bad idea?”

And that was exactly why it was a bad idea. Her mind whirled with thoughts and feelings that had no place while she was on the job. Even though she’d been in his arms only ten minutes or so, knew almost nothing about him, it physically hurt her to pull away.

“I must go.”

“Go where?”

Anywhere that she could escape this breathless feeling swirling through her. She wanted things she’d never experienced before. This had to end. Now.

The rat-a-tat-tat of an automatic weapon ripped through the ballroom. A shrill scream quickly followed. The music stopped. Everyone halted in their steps. The entire room was frozen as if waiting to see what would happen next. When another, even louder scream split the air, everyone unfroze as one. Chaos followed. Like frenzied ants, people ran left and right, slamming into each other to escape the unknown terror.

Olivia and her dance partner were the only ones who stayed still, taking everything in. She turned to him and their eyes locked. She saw a slight confusion before comprehension hit. What she didn’t see was any hint of fear or concern.

“Your people, I presume?” he asked.

How had he known that? Had she given something away?

Instead of doing the smart thing—acting surprised or even offended—she did the least wise thing she’d ever done in her life. Standing on her toes, she leaned into him and placed her lips on his. As kisses went, it was nothing. Barely a brushing of her mouth against his, but she knew she would never forget his taste, the feel of his firm, masculine lips, or the heat of his body against hers.

“That was unexpected,” he murmured.

Before she could respond with something frivolous to hide the fact that her entire foundation had just been rocked, more gunfire erupted.

Thankful for the distraction, Olivia pulled away and watched as four masked men entered the ballroom. The assault rifles they held were menacing enough but their size and demeanor were just as intimidating. No one would dare try to challenge them.

She peeked a look at the man at her side. He was the only one who might consider resisting. What was he thinking? His expression gave nothing away, but two things stood starkly out for her—the kiss hadn’t affected him nearly as much as it had her. And the threat of armed, masked men didn’t seem to concern him in the least.

Why?

 

Intrigued, Hawke kept an eye on the gunmen. Ordinarily he would be looking for a way to distract and disarm the intruders, but not only was he outnumbered, he suspected that the woman beside him was part of the ruse. Call him a fool but he could not imagine that she would be involved in a scheme where innocent people would be injured.

“Okay, everyone!” one of the gunmen shouted. “Nobody has to get hurt. Just give us your jewelry, phones, wallets, and purses. We’ll leave peacefully and you can get back to your dancing.”

While one gunman stood guard, two others walked through the crowd gathering items in a large cloth bag.

One not so bright man, possibly wanting to impress his companion, barked indignantly, “Over my dead body.”

“If you insist.” One of the gunmen fired, placing the bullet hole barely an inch from the man’s right foot.

The young man jumped a half yard away. Apparently now a true believer, he quickly dropped his wallet and cell phone into the bag. And letting go of his hero status even further, he then grabbed his companion’s small purse and tossed it into the bag, too.

“Good call, Romeo.” The amusement in the gunman’s voice was evident.

Another gunman turned to Hawke’s companion. “You too, princess.”

The woman beside him huffed out a sigh and threw her small silver purse on top of the other stolen items.

When the gunman gestured at her necklace, she touched the jewels as if she would refuse. Even though Hawke was almost certain she was part of this robbery charade, he couldn’t take the chance that he was wrong.

Touching the hand that hovered over the necklace, he growled softly, “Losing it isn’t worth your life. Give it to them.”

With more reluctance than he expected she would give, the woman unclasped the necklace and thrust it at the thief. “You’ll pay for this.”

Though his face was covered, the amusement in the gunman’s light blue eyes was apparent. “I’m sure I will. But not tonight.”

With that he turned and surveyed the cluster of people, many of them not sparkling nearly as much as they had been moments before. “Thank you for your cooperation. Now if everyone will face the wall, we’ll take our leave.”

As if choreographed by a dance master, men and women turned as one toward the wall. The woman beside him tried to step away from him but Hawke grabbed her arm.

Pulling out of his grasp, she said softly, “Do you really want to risk these people’s lives just to prove a point?”

Of course he didn’t and wouldn’t, but he definitely wanted to know who she was and what this was about.

“Perhaps we could arrange a meeting at another time.”

Her eyes widened, her expression surprisingly vulnerable. “I would have liked that.”

Before he could question her meaning, the room was plunged into midnight darkness. Seconds later, the lights returned full-force. The gunmen were gone.

And so was his beautiful dance partner.