MIRA'S POV
I closed my eyes, unable to look at him. The way he said that name—Elise—like it still meant something to him, like the lies hadn't poisoned everything between us.
"Because I'm not Elise," I whispered. "I'm not the woman you fell in love with. I'm Mira Weston, federal agent, professional liar. The woman who infiltrated your company, who slept with you under false pretenses, who—"
"Stop." His voice was firm. "Just stop."
I opened my eyes to find him standing beside my bed, his dark eyes intense with something I couldn't identify. "Adrian—"
"I don't care what your real name is."
The words hit me like a physical blow. "You don't understand—"
"I understand everything." He pulled the visitor's chair closer to my bed and sat down. "I heard the recording, Mira. I heard everything Jesse said about how he manipulated you, about David Hong, about your father."
"That doesn't change what I did to you—"
"Doesn't it? You were told that I was responsible for your father's death. You were shown fabricated evidence, manipulated by someone you trusted." His voice was quiet, understanding. "If someone had told me that you'd killed my father and shown me proof, I would have done the same thing."
Tears burned my eyes. "You don't know that—"
"I do know that. Because I know you, Mira. I know how much your father meant to you, how his death shaped everything you've done since. Jesse used that against you."
"I still chose to take the assignment. I still chose to lie to you every single day for months." The words came out broken, filled with all the guilt I'd been carrying. "I still fell in love with you while I was supposed to be destroying you."
"And I fell in love with you while you were lying about who you were." He reached for my hand, and I didn't pull away. "That doesn't make what we felt any less real."
"How can you say that? How can you even look at me?"
"Because when I look at you, I don't see a federal agent or a professional liar." His thumb traced across my knuckles. "I see the woman who cried when I told her about my childhood. I see the woman who defended me at business dinners. I see the woman who made me believe in love again."
The tears came then, hot and overwhelming. "Adrian—"
"I love you," he said simply. "Not Elise Hart, not the perfect assistant, not the carefully constructed cover story. I love Mira Weston, the woman who's strong enough to go undercover for months but gentle enough to cry over someone else's pain."
I broke down completely then, sobbing into my hands. All the guilt, all the shame, all the fear I'd been carrying—it poured out of me in ugly, desperate tears.
Adrian didn't say anything else. He just stood up and carefully pulled me into his arms, mindful of my injured shoulder. I buried my face against his chest and let myself fall apart in the safety of his embrace.
"I'm sorry," I whispered against his shirt. "I'm so sorry for everything."
"I know you are."
"You don't understand how hard it was." The words tumbled out between sobs. "From the moment I started working for you, I knew something was wrong. You weren't the monster Jesse described. You were kind and brilliant and—"
"Then why didn't you tell me the truth?"
"Because I was scared. Because I thought maybe you were just good at hiding your true nature. Because Jesse kept showing me more evidence, kept pushing me to dig deeper." I pulled back to look at him. "That day you caught me at your computer—that was the first time I'd actually tried to access your private files."
"The first time?"
"I know you won't believe me, but it's true. I spent months finding excuses not to investigate you properly. I told Jesse I needed more time, that you were too careful, that I hadn't found the right opportunities." I wiped tears from my cheeks. "The truth was, I couldn't bring myself to do it. Every day I fell a little more in love with you, and every day it became harder to remember why I was there."
Adrian was quiet for a long moment, processing what I'd told him. "Jesse pressured you?"
"He said I was losing focus. He threatened to pull me from the assignment, to tell you everything if I didn't produce results." I shuddered, remembering that final confrontation. "That night you caught me, I'd finally given in to his demands. I was going to access your files, find whatever evidence he needed, and end the charade."
"But you couldn't go through with it."
"I tried. But when I sat down at that computer, all I could think about was how much I loved you. How much it would destroy you to learn the truth." I met his eyes. "How much it would destroy me to be the one to do it."
"Mira—"
"I was going to quit the next day. I was going to tell Jesse the mission was over, that I couldn't do it anymore. I was going to disappear from your life and let you think Elise Hart had just... moved away or something."
"Without telling me the truth?"
"I thought it would be kinder. I thought if you never knew what I'd been sent to do, you could remember what we had as something good instead of something poisoned by lies."
Adrian cupped my face in his hands, his thumbs brushing away fresh tears. "You would have left me."
"I would have done anything to protect you. Even if it meant losing you."
"You don't have to lose me." His voice was rough with emotion. "We can get through this, Mira. Together."
"How? Everyone thinks I'm your mistress. The media has turned us into a scandal. The federal investigation—"
"The federal investigation will clear me once they hear the recording. Jesse confessed to everything—the money laundering, your father's murder, David Hong’s involvement. It's all there."
"But the damage to your reputation—"
"Can be repaired. With time and the truth." He looked at me seriously. "But I need your help."
"My help?"
"The media is going crazy with speculation. They're painting you as either a gold-digging mistress or a victim of workplace harassment. Neither story is true, and neither one helps clear my name."
I knew where this was going. "You want me to go public."
"I want you to tell the truth. About who you really are, about why you were really there, about what Jesse and David Hong did to both of us."
The thought of facing cameras, of having my real identity broadcast to the world, made my stomach churn. "Adrian, I can't—"
"You can. We can do it together."
"You don't understand. If I reveal that I'm a federal agent, my career is over. I'll never be able to work undercover again. My entire life—"
"Your entire life has been about seeking justice for your father. Well, here's your chance." His voice was passionate, convincing. "Help me bring down David Hong and Jesse. Help me expose the real conspiracy. Give your father the justice he deserved."
Before I could respond, Adrian's phone rang. He glanced at the screen and grimaced.
"Media?"
"Channel 7 News. They've been calling nonstop since yesterday." He looked at me seriously. "Mira, they're going to keep speculating until someone tells them the truth. It might as well be us."
"Adrian—"
"Trust me. Please. We've lost so much already—don't let them take our chance at real justice too."
I stared at him, this man who'd somehow found it in his heart to forgive me, who was offering to stand beside me despite everything I'd done.
"If I do this," I said slowly, "there's no going back. Once the truth is out there—"
"There's no going back anyway. Jesse made sure of that when he orchestrated this whole mess." Adrian took my hand again. "But we can control the narrative. We can make sure people know what really happened."
His phone rang again. Same number.
"Answer it," I said quietly.
"Are you sure?"
I took a deep breath, thinking about my father, about everything he'd died trying to expose. About the justice that had been denied for too long.
"Answer it. Tell them Mira Weston has a story to tell."