The Padel Court

The cable snapped against her wrist like a warning she should have heeded three months ago. Elena stood at the edge of the pool, clutching her phone, watching Marcus serve across the padel court—their court, or so she'd thought until the encryption specialist from CyberDyne had slipped her his card at the company retreat.

"Your backhand's getting sloppy," Marcus called out, grinning that wolfish grin that had convinced her to leak him those proprietary algorithms. "Distracted?"

"Just thinking about the quarterly report," she lied, the pool's blue water distorting her reflection. If Marcus knew she'd spent last night decrypting the drive his "friend" from the Tokyo office had couriered, he wouldn't be smiling.

The padel ball cracked against the wall. As Marcus moved to return it, his shirt lifted enough to reveal the thin cable of a wire taped to his ribs. Elena's stomach dropped. All those evenings when he'd claimed insomnia, when he'd slept in the guest room with his laptop—had he been transmitting her company's defense contracts? Or worse, recording *her*?

She'd played the perfect mole: lonely corporate director, vulnerable to charm, grateful for the attention. Meanwhile, she'd been the spy all along, hired by her own firm's internal security to flush out whoever was selling their IP to competitors. Six months of meticulous trust-building, of stolen kisses and pillow talk, of slowly feeding him classified documents that were actually精心 crafted decoys.

"Elena?" Marcus stood at the net, sweat dripping down his temple. "You okay? You look like you've seen a ghost."

She forced a smile, dropping her phone into her bag—already transmitting its payload to the team parked in the van outside. "Fine. Just need to use the restroom."

As she walked past him, his hand grazed her waist. The wire beneath his shirt pressed against her palm, hard and undeniable.

"Game's not over," he murmured.

"Oh," she said, already calculating how many agents were stationed at the club's exits, "it's only just begun."

The water lapped against the pool's edge like a heartbeat. Tomorrow, Marcus would be in custody. Tomorrow, she'd be debriefed and reassigned. Tonight, she had one more serve to return.