The Undercover Life (Spy Academy Book 1) Read online

  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Author's Note

  Prologue

  Monday, August 10

  Tuesday, August 11

  Wednesday, August 12

  Thursday, August 13

  Author's Note

  More Books by Scarlett

  Find Me Online.

  The Undercover Life

  Spy Academy, Book One

  Scarlett Haven

  Copyright © 2019 Scarlett Haven

  http://scarletthaven.net

  All rights reserved.

  Cover by Scarlett Haven

  Edited by Janet at Dragonfly Editing

  This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are products of the author’s imagination, and used fictitiously.

  The Undercover Life is book 1 of 5 in the Spy Academy Series.

  This book follows the life of a 19-year-old girl who goes undercover at Spy School as a student. I have written many books based in this world, but you don’t need to read any of the previous books to understand what is going on.

  That being said: The Undercover Life is more mature than my previous books and it might not be suitable for younger readers. Please be advised.

  Spy Academy is a fictional story and should be enjoyed as such. If you are looking for something super realistic, this is not the book for you. But if you’re looking for angst, drama, and hot boys who all seem to love the main character, then you’ve come to the right place.

  Happy reading!

  <3 Scarlett Haven

  Prologue

  You’re just too intense.

  I am standing on top of the Eiffel Tower. It’s a beautiful summer day in France—the sun is shining, the birds are chirping, and it’s so crowded that I can barely move.

  I try not to let that bother me as I stand next to the man I’m dating.

  I suppose dating is a liberal word to use. The guy... he’s part of my cover. I was told to blend in. Who blends in more than a couple holding hands on top of the Eiffel Tower?

  I’m not paying attention to the guy today because I’m too busy looking for my target.

  There is a man who comes to the Eiffel Tower every year on this day. We don’t know why he does, and I literally could not care less. All I know is that he is a bad guy. Every year, he seems to get away from us. So, I’ve spent the last two months in Paris, preparing for this. I’ve set up a fake life where I’m here on a student visa—except I don’t go to school. Every day, when I say I’m going to school, I study this man’s face and the thousand different disguises he could be wearing. I am prepared. He’s not getting away this year.

  The boyfriend... he’s clueless... cute, but clueless. And as far as he knows, I’m about to head back to America to finish up my schooling. Today is our last time seeing each other before my plane leaves tomorrow. It seems sad, but I honestly can’t wait to be rid of the guy. He’s kind of clingy.

  Don’t get me wrong, Jules is hot in every sense of the word. He’s spontaneous, sexy, and great in bed. He’s even a great cook. And his accent... I love when he whispers French words in my ear. I’m going to miss that. What I’m not going to miss are the texts he sends all day while I’m trying to work. He always tells me he misses me and that he loves me, and I realize most girls would kill for that, but I’m not most girls. I don’t do attachments. The one and only time I did... well, it didn’t end well. So, I keep myself distant from everybody, because it’s easier.

  For this reason, I should’ve known that Jules would do something rash. I should’ve known that he wouldn’t let me go so easily. But I’m so distracted, looking around for the target, that I don’t notice that Jules is fidgeting. I don’t notice that he keeps feeling in his pocket for something. And I definitely don’t notice that he’s getting down on one knee, until it’s too late.

  “Katy Wright, these last two months of my life have been the most incredible. Every single day I fall more in love with you. Your beauty never ceases to take my breath away, and every moment that we’re apart, I feel like I’m going to die without you.”

  I hold my breath.

  Is he serious right now?

  “Will you do me the honor of making me the happiest man on earth, and be my wife? Marry me, Katy.”

  Barf.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I see somebody moving that matches our targets build. I turn to get a better look and...

  “Found him,” I say, knowing that all the other agents can hear me.

  “What the heck is going on up there, Brooklyn? It sounds like your boy toy is asking you to marry him.” I hear the agent snicker through my earpiece.

  That’s when I realize... Jules is still on one knee, looking at me with such hope in his eyes.

  “I’m sorry, Jules.” I frown, shaking my head. “Someday you’re going to make a girl very happy. But that’s not me.” I turn to chase after the guy, but Jules grabs my arm to stop me from leaving.

  “Tell me why, my love.” Tears are now flowing down Jules’s face and I hear the audience let out an “Ahhh!”

  “Yeah, tell him why, Brooklyn.” Somebody in my earpiece says. The sarcasm in heavy in their voice.

  If I didn’t need the stupid earpiece so badly, I’d rip it out. I’m going to kick these guys’ asses when I’m done with this mission.

  I sigh, looking at Jules. I feel bad for the guy. “You’re just... too intense. I just wanted to have fun. I’m only nineteen.” The target starts to move closer to the stairwell. “Sorry, Jules. Gotta go.”

  I run and jump up on the railing. I hear people gasps. I guess they think I’m about to make a dramatic leap down to my death, but I don’t. Instead, I jump over quite a few people, getting closer to the target. He sees me move and panics, pushing people out of his way.

  “He’s running,” I say to my earpiece.

  “We’ve got security cameras on him,” somebody says. I can hear them clicking on their keyboard, but I tune it out and focus on my mission at hand.

  I vaguely hear Jules calling out “Katy” from behind me, but I ignore that and just run through the crowd, towards the stairs. I run as fast as I can, but the target... he’s in shape, too. So, I just keep running and running.

  Are these stairs ever going to end?

  “How many flights of stairs is this?” I ask, as my feet slam against the stairs. I take them two at a time.

  “It’s one hundred and eight stories.” I don’t know which agent answers. I don’t usually work with these people. This is a special case where they brought in all the best agents. And to think... I nearly ruined it because stupid Jules decided today was a good day to propose.

  “Got to lay off those macaroons, Brook.”

  I roll my eyes at that comment.

  My body has never been in better physical shape than it is now. So what if I indulge in a few macaroons? How often am I going to be in France to eat fresh macaroons every day?

  Honestly... I probably won’t be in Paris again after this. After we catch this guy, I’ll be on a jet out of here, on my way to my next mission—hopefully later today, if I’m lucky.

  After what feels like hours, but is probably just minutes, we reach the bottom.

  Our target has nowhere to go. Agents are now all over the ground and he has no choice but to give up. In a last-ditch attempt, he reaches into his pocket for something. I go to grab my gun, but another agent is quicker. The shot is silent, but it hits with a thud and the target goes down.

  He is neutralized.

  It’s over.

  Our cle
an up agents come in to dispose of the body and talk to the media. The other agents and I all walk out in different directions, like nothing ever happened.

  Don’t let anybody see you—that’s the rule.

  I don’t get one hundred feet from the Eiffel Tower when my phone rings.

  “Hello,” I answer.

  “You made quite the spectacle today.” Michael Sinclair is on the other line.

  Michael Sinclair runs the agency I work for. It’s known as Spy School to all the agents. I suppose it has a real name, other than Spy School, but nobody actually knows what it is. Me, I don’t care. I love Spy School and I do my job well.

  “Yes, sir,” I say, owning up to my mistake. Jules was a big mistake. But how was I to know the guy would find me so irresistible?

  “I have somebody taking down every single video that is uploaded of your marriage proposal,” he says.

  I cringe.

  I had no idea somebody was recording. I should have known. I was just so focused.

  “But I’m not calling to scold you, Brooklyn. I’m calling you to give you your next assignment. I need you to go undercover again.”

  Undercover.

  My favorite kind of mission. “I’m ready, sir.”

  Monday, August 10

  In his dreams.

  Here’s the thing about me—even though I graduated from Spy School when I was seventeen-years-old, I’ve never actually attended the school. I’ve never even seen it in person. I, like many other students, had parents who were deep undercover around the time I was supposed to attend school. Seeing as I was a huge part of my parents’ cover, all of my training and schooling was done off campus. So now that I’m standing here, reliving all my childhood fantasies, I can’t help but be thankful that I wasn’t here through my awkward teenage years.

  Today, I am enrolling as Brooklyn Taylor—at least I get to use my real first name. I’m going to be a seventeen-year-old student whose family was undercover until recently, so I decided to come to Spy School for my senior year. It’s actually a pretty close cover story to my own real-life story, except my parents’ cover didn’t actually end until after I graduated. I mean... it’s weird that I have to pretend to be seventeen, but I’ll do anything for Spy School—even if it means putting up with a bunch of bratty teenagers.

  I’m nineteen. I’m actually turning twenty in October. But the fact is, I still look like a fetus. I wish I was joking, but the last time I went to the movies, they asked if my parent or guardian was with me because they thought I was too young to see an R-rated movie. But today, I am using that to my advantage, and I am going to pretend to be seventeen.

  The problem is—I have no idea how to act like a seventeen-year-old. To be fair, I didn’t know how to act seventeen when I was seventeen, so that’s nothing new. I’m hoping that a lot of kids in Spy School are awkward, like me.

  As I walk toward my first class of the day, I can’t help but feel like the day is going to be redundant. I’ve already passed these classes—just two years ago. This assignment is going to be the most boring one of my life. Repeating high school has got to be some kind of punishment. But I will take this job seriously, just as I take all my assignments seriously.

  I look at my tablet to see which class is first.

  History of Spy School. Teacher, Jaxon Duran.

  I already know that this is going to be an easy class for me.

  I walk into the classroom, feeling a little disoriented. I arrived late last night and haven’t had the chance to explore the school, yet. At least I’m in the same time zone as I was in France, only now I get to speak English.

  French is not my best language. I grew up speaking English and Italian, but I’m not great with learning to speak new languages. I took four years of French, and spent a few months in Paris, and still struggle asking where the bathroom is.

  When I walk into the classroom, it’s already half-way full. One thing about students at Spy School is they’re always on time. In fact, if you’re late too many times, Spy School will kick you out. They don’t have time for lazy people, at least that is what they say. I don’t have a problem with this rule.

  I take a seat in the middle of the room. I’m not too close to the front or back. I try my best to blend in and look like everybody else.

  A guy, who was sitting in the back of the class, walks up and sits down in the desk directly beside me. “Hello, gorgeous.”

  I don’t even bother looking up. “I’m not interested.”

  He puts a hand dramatically to his chest. “I’m wounded. You don’t even know me.”

  Finally, I look up at him.

  He is attractive, I will give him that. His blue eyes sparkle with humor, and he’s smirking at me. He doesn’t at all seem put off by the fact that I’m not interested. Maybe he thinks I will change my mind. Or maybe he likes the chase. Probably the latter.

  “I make pretty boys like you cry.”

  His smile widens. “You think I’m pretty?”

  I roll my eyes. Of course, he would choose to take that from what I said. “Who are you?”

  “Killian Young.” He raises an eyebrow. “And you are?”

  “I’m Brooklyn,” I lean closer to him and whisper, just in case somebody is listening to our conversation. I don’t want to embarrass him, even if he probably deserves it. “Look, Killian. I’m sure you’re a wonderful boy and all that, but I’m truly and sincerely not interested in you.”

  The smile falls from his face and he blinks a few times, as if my words are just now sinking in. But just as quickly, he beams at me again. “I love a challenge. And you, Brooklyn, are going to be a fun challenge.”

  Killian is going to be a problem, but he’s nothing I can’t handle.

  “Good morning, class.”

  I turn around and see who I can only guess is Jaxon Duran walk in.

  Hello, gorgeous.

  Jaxon is beautiful in every sense of the word. I am not sure what it is about him, but he makes my heart flutter.

  He is tall, I’d say over six feet. He has sandy blond hair that looks freshly cut. When he smiles, these two dimples appear. I never thought dimples could be sexy, but on him, it’s sexy.

  I grin, glancing from Jaxon to Killian. “Jaxon Duran is my type.”

  Killian rolls his eyes. “He’s too old for you.”

  Too old for me?

  I look at Jaxon, who is now standing in front of the classroom. He’s not old at all—maybe early twenties. And I’m about to turn twenty in two months. But then I remember... I’m a student. I think my file says I’m seventeen. So, even though I’m not too young for Jaxon Duran, Brooklyn Taylor definitely is too young for him.

  Well, that sucks.

  I lean forward, resting my elbow on the desk in front of me. Does it really matter if I’m pretending to be seventeen? I’m not actually seventeen, and besides that, the legal age of consent in Switzerland is sixteen. Even Brooklyn Taylor is legal in all the ways that matter.

  Still, Jaxon doesn’t seem like the kind of guy who would be interested in a seventeen-year-old. He’s probably interested in women. Which I definitely am, but Brooklyn Taylor isn’t.

  “You’ve got a little drool,” Killian whispers, motioning to my chin.

  Once again, I roll my eyes at him. “Jealous?”

  “Mark my words, Brooklyn. You will be mine.” He smirks.

  Maybe in his dreams.

  Jaxon clears his throat, walking in front of Killian’s desk. “Are you done trying to flirt with your neighbor?”

  Killian just shrugs. “Only if she’ll agree to go out with me tonight.”

  Jaxon looks at me, like he’s waiting for me to answer Killian’s question. Actually, the whole classroom looks at me. But now that Jaxon is standing this close, I can see that his eyes are the prettiest color of pale green I have ever seen. I nearly forget to breath.

  “I was just informing him that I’d rather go out with you, Mr. Duran.” I look up at him through my lashes.
“Are you free tonight?”

  “I don’t date students.” He crosses his arms over his chest.

  “I didn’t say anything about a date.” I grin. “We can skip straight to the good part and go back to my room.”

  The entire class gasps, like they can’t believe I just said that. And I wonder if maybe I shouldn’t have said it. Is that something a seventeen-year-old girl would say? I think I would have at seventeen, but I’ve always been pretty confident. I need to blend in here.

  That was stupid.

  “What is your name?” Jaxon asks.

  “Brooklyn.” I grin, adding a, “Sir,” to the end.

  “Well, Brooklyn, you just earned yourself detention. I’ll see you after school today.” Jaxon turns to walk back to the front of the room.

  “Wait.” Killian holds up a hand to stop Jaxon. “Can I have detention, too?”

  Jaxon rolls his eyes. “I’ll see you both, then.”

  Killian smirks. “Guess I got that date after all.”

  Uh.

  Dear God.

  Help.

  Great friends.

  My Monday has just started and I’ve already got detention. That’s just great—perfect, really. Especially since I have to spend the entire detention with Killian, who seems to think if he smirks at me enough that I will agree to a date with him.

  When I walk out of Jaxon Duran’s classroom, I walk out swiftly, trying to avoid any further conversation with Killian. He chases after me, and even calls my name, but I ignore him. It’s entirely his fault I have detention.

  Okay, maybe not entirely. I suppose insinuating that I want to have sex with my teacher probably wasn’t my brightest idea ever, but I have to do something on undercover missions or else I get bored. Jaxon is exactly what I want to do. He’s going to be a fun challenge.

  I stop before entering my next class as I realize that Killian and I aren’t so much different. Didn’t he say something similar to me when I turned him down?