Chapter 5.
Lexi's POV.
I spent the hours leading up to my night duty with a movie, accompanied by a bottle of orange juice and a pack of cookies. It was bliss—just me, my favorite film, and a sweet treat.
As the credits rolled, I stretched luxuriously and ambled toward my bedroom, craving a quick nap before I clocked in. Just as I sank onto my bed, the doorbell rang. My mood plummeted. Whoever it was could wait; I had no energy for visitors. But the persistent ringing shattered my peace.
Glancing at the monitor, I gasped when I saw my mom. I hastily opened the door, anticipating the avalanche of nagging that usually followed her visits.
"What took you so long to get the door?!" she snapped.
"Hi, Mom," I managed a forced smile while she strolled past me into the living room.
"What kind of daughter ignores her mother's calls and texts?" she continued her tirade.
"I never ignore your calls and texts; you just never reach out at the right time," I replied, narrowly dodging her slap on my arm.
"Go get dressed," she commanded, pushing me toward my bedroom.
"What for?" My confusion was palpable.
"We're both going out," she replied briskly, like it was the most natural thing in the world.
"Going out?" I exclaimed, incredulous. "Mom, I have night duty at work soon! Can’t we go out tomorrow morning after I get off? I promise I'll come straight to you."
"No!" she retorted, her tone brooking no argument. "I have a better idea. Get dressed like you’re going to work, and pack everything you need. You’ll just leave for work at once."
With no room for protest, I resigned to a nod and shuffled back into my bedroom, grumbling under my breath about parental overreach.
Dressed and ready in what I hoped was a professional ensemble, I emerged to find her smiling approvingly. "Good girl."
"Now let's go," she declared, her excitement palpable as she led the way.
When we reached the car basement, I instinctively headed for my own vehicle, but she latched onto my arm. "Where are you going?" she asked, a hint of mischief in her voice.
I sighed, already getting tired. "I'm heading to my car. You came with yours, so it makes sense for me to follow you in mine to make sure I can get to work," I explained.
"So you can run away, right?" she accused. "You'll ride with me in my car," she pulled me into her car.
Oh God, please save me.
Her chauffeur seamlessly maneuvered through the streets until we arrived at an eatery. “No, thank you, I’m not hungry,” I said to my mom, my disinterest clear.
“You can tell that to him when you get inside,” she replied, a mischievous glint in her eye.
“Him? Who? What him?” I felt a wave of confusion wash over me.
“Your date for this evening,” she said with a grin that hinted she was enjoying this far too much.
“What?!!!” I exclaimed, my eyes widening in disbelief. “Mom!”
"I'm not meeting anyone," I insisted, stepping out of the car only to collide with the formidable frames of her bodyguards.
I smirked, regaining my composure. "I'm a CIA agent, Mom. These guys are no threat to me."
"So what are you gonna do? Showcase your skills, or are you just going to walk in peacefully and enjoy your date?" she shot back, raising an eyebrow.
The mix of irritation and confusion churned inside me as I stared at her. Why did I fall into her womb?
Eventually, I found myself in the eatery, staring across at my arranged date—a young man deep in focus on his phone.
I lightly kicked the table, making my presence known. He looked up, momentarily startled. “Miss Alexandra?” he queried, and I nodded, suppressing a reluctant sigh.
"Nice to meet you," he smiled, extending a hand for a shake.
I chose to forego the handshake and offered him a half-hearted smile instead as I settled into my chair.
"I'm Daniel. I've heard a lot about you from your mom," he said, attempting to engage me further.
"What would you like to order?" he asked, genuinely looking for a way to connect.
"Nothing, I'm good," I replied curtly.
He began talking about things I wasn’t even paying attention to, his words drifting past me like leaves in the wind. After a while, he paused, searchlight eyes landing on me. “Are you listening to me, Miss?” he asked, his voice tinged with concern.
"Yeah, I am. It’s just... I’m running late for work," I replied, offering a polite smile that didn't quite reach my eyes.
“Oh, I’m so sorry about that. Let’s call it a night then.” He extended his hand again, a hesitant truce laid out between us.
This time, I accepted his handshake. "Thank you for understanding," I said, my tone softer as I felt a bit of relief.
“Love to meet you some other time,” he smiled, a glimmer of hope in his eyes.
I reciprocated with a polite but forced smile before turning away and leaving the eatery, my thoughts swirling in a mix of relief and exasperation. I couldn’t believe my mom actually did this to me.
As the warm air outside hit me like a wave, contrasting with the cool, air-conditioned interior I’d just left, I glanced at my phone—great. Only fifteen minutes until my shift started.
I waved down a taxi just as my phone buzzed in my pocket. I fished it out to find a message from my mom. “Did he seem nice?”
Rolling my eyes, I typed back, “Nice enough, but I really need to get to work. Thanks for the surprise.”
Sliding into the taxi, the scent of leather enveloped me, grounding my racing thoughts. As the driver started the engine, I mentally noted that I would have a stern talk with my mom later, something along the lines of "please don’t set me up again."
Looking out the window, the city whirled by, an array of chaos that did little to ease the irritation bubbling in my chest. I took a steadying breath, focusing on the rhythmic hum of the car as we pulled into the parking lot of the CIA building.
Once inside, I headed straight for the break room, where the aroma of freshly brewed coffee beckoned. Caffeine was my ally in times like these. As I stepped out, I was greeted by the energetic bustle of the CIA, agents moving in different directions, urgency in their movements and voices.
A moment later, my colleague and teammate, Ava, appeared in front of me, breathless. "Oh, thank goodness, you're here already, Chief." She panted.
I'm the Chief of Team Alpha of Counterintelligence Division, under the Directorate Of Operations.
"What's going on? It looks like a top criminal has been caught." I asked. That's one of the many reasons the CIA gets bustling like this.
"No, a top criminal turned himself in." She replied.
"Who?" I asked.
"Leonardo De Santos," she replied.