Vitamin B for Betrayal

Elena's hair was falling out in clutches. She'd find them on her pillow—dark, coarse strands like abandoned secrets. At 42, she was too old for this fieldwork, but she was the best corporate spy Medici Pharmaceuticals had. Her handler called it asset optimization. She called it slow suicide.

She swallowed another handful of vitamins—B-complex for stress, D for the windowless office, biotin for the hair that kept abandoning her. The pills clinked against her teeth, a tiny applause for her performance.

Her dog, Max, waited at home. A golden retriever with cloudy eyes and bad hips, he was the only living thing that didn't want something from her. Some nights she came home from surveillance gigs smelling of stale coffee and moral compromise, and Max would still rest his head on her knee. He didn't know she sold secrets for a living. He just knew she was his person.

This assignment was different. Target: James "Bear" Kincaid, a biochemist developing a vitamin formula that could revolutionize prenatal care. Medici wanted it. Would pay millions for his research. All Elena had to do was get close, gain his trust, steal his life's work.

She found him at a dog park, throwing a tennis ball for an ancient bulldog. His own hair was silver-white, his eyes kind. They talked about dogs aging, about the terrible arithmetic of loving something that dies.

"You have that look," Bear said. "Like you're carrying something heavy."

"Occupational hazard."

"What do you do?"

"I'm in vitamin sales," she said, and something in her chest cracked.

He laughed. "That's funny. Most people find that boring."

They met for coffee. Then dinner. She learned his wife had died of cancer four years ago, that his formula was born from grief, from wanting to prevent suffering. He showed her the research—pages of careful hope.

She should have copied the files. Instead she let him kiss her in his kitchen, Max's leash forgotten on the floor. His hands were gentle, his mouth tasted like mint and loneliness.

"You're not a salesperson," he murmured against her neck. "But you're not what you think you are either."

She woke at 3 AM to his phone buzzing. Medici. Asking for the files. She watched Bear sleep, his silver hair on the pillow. Max was dreaming in his bed at home, probably.

Elena packed her bag. Left the vitamins on his counter. A confession she couldn't speak aloud.

The bear market of her soul, she thought. Everything crashing down.

She walked out into the cold dawn, calling her handler to quit. Max would be waiting. Some things still deserved loyalty.