PROLOGUE

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NADIA PAVLOV

"Harder" Rockwell shouted.

"I am trying" I heard myself say as I repeatedly punched the bag dangling in front of me.

All my anxiety, anger and hatred washed over me as I kept punching. I could see the blood drip from my knuckles but I couldn't feel it.

"Stop" I heard Rockwell say distantly.

But I didn't stop. I couldn't.

"Stop," he repeated, placing his hands over my arm, slowing down my hard blows and forcing me to stop.

I breathed hard and stared at his weathered face which didn't betray a single emotion.

He stepped in front of me, keeping his hands on my arms, he whispered in my ear, 
"A fighter, knows when to hit hard and hold nothing back.
But...a spy knows when to hit hard," he angled his face against mine so his lips were almost on my ear, "and when to...stop."

I side stepped away from him and raised an inquisitive brow.

"Caine wouldn't be easy, he knows how to read people, especially his women. This won't be your usual target, move close and with precision," He started at me, hard, "and when you know where to break him, strike gracefully."

I smirked at him, ready to face Archer Caine.

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