UNDERCOVER SHADOW
Releasing November 20,2025
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He'll track her to the ends of the earth to bring her home.
She's playing a deadly game that could destroy them both.
Their love might be the only truth in a world of lies.

TAG
I've always trusted my instincts in the field, but Nightingale's disappearance has left me grasping at shadows. The others think I'm obsessed, but they don't understand what she means to me. Now I'm following her trail across Eastern Europe, determined to discover the truth. Was she taken against her will, or has she been working against us all along? I don't care what secrets she's keeping—I'll find her and bring her back, because a life without Leila is unthinkable.

NIGHTINGALE
They think they know me, but no one sees the real me—not even Tag. My disappearance wasn't an accident—it was my only choice after what I discovered in Syria. Now I'm moving east with handlers always watching, playing a dangerous game where one wrong move means death. The tunnels beneath the Highland estates hold secrets that could bring down governments. As Tag gets closer, I'm terrified he'll become collateral damage in a war he doesn't even know exists. But if anyone can navigate this labyrinth and survive, it's the man I never meant to love.

1
Nightingale

I stared out at the London skyline, finding no stars tonight, only darkness broken by the city’s endless lights. From my safehouse window in Notting Hill, I tracked shadows moving across the wet pavement below, mentally cataloging each suspicious figure. My breath created small patches of fog on the cold glass, temporary markers of my existence that disappeared seconds later.

They were following me again tonight. Different faces, same purpose. They weren’t even trying to be subtle anymore.

My mobile vibrated—the third burner this week. The text contained only coordinates and a time—zero two hundred. Thirty minutes from now. Another move, another location, another step in this elaborate game where I still couldn’t identify all the players.

My gaze drifted to the small tracking device I’d extracted from my tactical vest after Syria. I’d disabled it immediately, of course, but hadn’t destroyed it. Sentiment, perhaps. Or something deeper.

Tag would have found me by now if I’d left it active.

The thought of him sent a familiar ache through my chest. I could almost see him pacing his study at Glenshadow, his dark eyes intense as he tracked intelligence feeds, searching for any trace of me. Niall MacTaggert didn’t surrender, didn’t abandon his people. Especially not someone he’d shared his bed with.

What would he think of me now?

I turned away from the window, methodically packing the few possessions I was able to bring with me. Everything fit into a single backpack—the mark of an operative who knew better than to grow attached to physical things.

Or people.

My fingers paused on a faded photograph, its edges worn from frequent handling. Four figures stood before a Highland backdrop—Tag, Con, Ash, and Gus. I’d taken it during a rare moment of celebration after a successful mission. Before Fallon Wallace. Before Labyrinth. Before I discovered the truth buried in encrypted files in Damascus.

“You shouldn’t keep that,” a woman’s voice said from the doorway.

I didn’t startle. I’d known she was there before she spoke—the subtle shift in air pressure, the nearly imperceptible creak of the floorboard.

“Sentiment is a liability,” she continued, remaining in the shadows. “Especially for someone in your position.”

“My position being what, exactly?” I slipped the photo into my jacket pocket. “Prisoner? Asset? Double agent?”

A soft laugh escaped her lips. “Let’s call it…consultant. Your expertise regarding Sterling’s neural interface research is invaluable to our continued work.”

“And what about Tag?” I asked, keeping my voice neutral. “He won’t stop looking.”

“The Earl of Glenshadow is persistent, I grant you.” The woman shifted slightly, still concealing her face. “But he’s following breadcrumbs we’ve carefully placed. By the time he realizes the truth, it will be too late.”

I turned back to the window, hiding my expression. “You underestimate him.”

“Perhaps.” She sounded amused. “Or perhaps you overestimate his feelings for you. Men like MacTaggert love the chase more than the capture.”

I didn’t respond to the barb. Let her believe what she wanted about my relationship with Tag. The less she understood, the better.

“Our contact will arrive soon. Be ready.” She paused at the doorway. “And Agent Nassar? Do remember where your loyalties lie now.”

When her footsteps faded, I extracted a small tool from my boot heel and pried up a floorboard beneath the bed. Inside the shallow space lay a tactical communications device—not standard Unit 23 issue, but something more specialized.

I activated it, composing a message in the unique encryption protocol only three people in the world could decrypt. My warning needed to be clear without revealing too much.

Janus active. McLaren remains in play. Tunnels vital.

I hesitated, thumb hovering over the send button, hating what I’d sacrificed to infiltrate what remained of Labyrinth.

But Tag needed to know I hadn’t betrayed him.

After a moment’s hesitation, I added a final line:

Trust in Loch Fyne. Everything else is shadow.

The reference would mean nothing to anyone else—just a geographical location in Scotland. But Tag would remember the night we’d spent together on his boat, anchored in the sheltered waters of the loch. The things we’d whispered in the darkness. The promises made.

I sent the message, then immediately disassembled the device, scattering its components in different locations around the room—the heating vent, the toilet tank, the hollow curtain rod. Nothing recognizable would remain when they searched the place after my departure.

Outside, a car engine started. Across the street, a figure stepped from the shadows, eyes tilted upward toward my window.

I recognized the silhouette immediately, my heart freezing in my chest.

Tag.

He’d found me, despite everything.

But he couldn’t approach—not with them watching. Not with what I still needed to accomplish.

I stepped back from the window, out of sight, my decision made before I fully processed my options. Retrieving the burner phone, I typed quickly:

ABORT. COMPROMISED. MOVING EAST.

Then I gathered my backpack, checked my weapon, and slipped into the hallway.

By the time Tag breached the safehouse, I would be gone.

Again.