Chapter 40 The Weight We Carry

Chapter 40 The Weight We Carry
(AURIANNA’S POV)

By the time morning rolls around, I’ve buried myself in the only distraction that still works.

Pain.

I’m in Zayne’s home gym, AirPods in, music blasting in my ears, trying to sweat out every messy thought still stuck in my head from last night. My muscles burn, my lungs feel like they’re on fire, but it’s the kind of burn that keeps me grounded.

Weights.

Cardio.

More weights.

Anything to keep my mind quiet.

Eventually I end up at the punching bag, slamming my fists into the leather with more force than necessary. Every punch sends a sharp jolt through my knuckles, but I welcome it. Hell, I need it.

I’m mid-swing when I feel a light tap on my back.

On instinct, I spin around, ready to attack, but instead of danger, I’m met with Brielle. She’s standing there in her little pajama shorts and messy morning hair, smiling up at me like she didn’t just scare the hell out of a trained operative.

I pull out my AirPods. “Hey. What are you doing down here?”

“I’ve been watching you train,” she says, rocking on her heels. “I hope you don’t mind.”

I shake my head. “Of course not.”

Her eyes shine. “You’re so cool, Anna. I wanna be just like you when I grow up.”

I’m taken back by the comment and can't help but laugh. “Sweetheart, you’re nine. Kids your age want to be superheroes, or mermaids, or fairies… or whatever cartoon character they’re obsessed with that week.”

She shakes her head hard. “No. I want to be a spy. Just like you.”

My smile falters just a little.

Of all the things she could’ve said… That one stings.

I let out a soft sigh and crouch down so we’re eye to eye. The look on her face is bright, curious, and a little stubborn—the kind of stubbornness you only get from being Zayne Beaumont’s daughter.

I cup her cheek gently, brushing my thumb over her skin. “Brielle… being a spy is the most dangerous job in the world. I’ve come face to face with some of the most evil people in the world. I’ve been hurt more times than I can count. Almost died two or three times too.”

Her smile fades.

“You don’t want this life, sweetie,” I say quietly. “Part of the reason I chose it is because I don't have anything else. I don’t have a future to look forward to. People like me… we don’t dream of happily ever afters.”

I swallow hard, forcing myself to meet her eyes. She looks so innocent. So hopeful.

“But you can,” I whisper. “You could be a teacher. A doctor. A famous artist. Or even a rich businesswoman like your dad. And one day, you’ll meet a nice guy… fall in love… get married… have kids. And when you’re old and grey, you’ll look back and see a life that was full.”

“Me on the other hand…” my voice cracks just a little. “I'm unable to have that life even if I wanted to.”

Brielle frowns. “Anna… why are you crying?”

I blink and wipe my face quickly, stunned I didn’t even notice it. “It’s nothing,” I say with a shaky laugh. “Just ignore me.”

Before I can pull myself together, Brielle throws her arms around my neck and hugs me tight. I freeze—my entire body goes stiff, not because I don’t want it but because I don’t get it.

Not often.
Not like this.

“My daddy hugs me when I cry,” she murmurs against my shoulder.

I get this warm, fuzzy feeling in my chest, and I can't help but smile. I hug her back, gently at first, then a little tighter when she snuggles closer. We stay like that for a moment that feels strangely comforting.

When she finally pulls back, she sniffles. “Can you teach me some spy moves now?”

I let out a weak laugh. “Your dad already said no.”

She clasps her hands under her chin dramatically. “Pleeeeeease? He doesn’t have to know.”

I raise a brow, folding my arms. “And what if he walks in right now?”

“He won’t,” she says with absolute confidence. “He’s having an online meeting.”

She leans in, batting her eyes and pouting her lips. “Pretty pleeeease?”

I tilt my head, squinting at her. The kid knows exactly what she’s doing. I can feel my resolve slipping just from how damn cute she looks.

I sigh. “Fine.”