Gabrielle had always looked like she belonged on a magazine cover, not in the middle of WOOHP missions. Her hair fell in long black waves to her lower back, her gray eyes framed by lashes that could stop anyone mid-sentence, and her light pink spy suit only made her stand out more beside Sam, Clover, and Alex. Still, she worked just as hard as they did—maybe harder—and she earned her place as the fourth member of the team.

At school, she moved through hallways with her three best friends, blending into the rhythm of teenage life. But inside WOOHP’s walls, Gabrielle became something else: a standout, even if she didn’t try to be. The agency had never had a spy quite like her.

Then the new handler arrived.

He called himself Mac. Calm. Clean-cut. Almost too smooth.

He appeared overnight with a story that didn’t convince anyone—Jerry had “retired to play golf full time,” and Mac was the one stepping in to run WOOHP operations. Missions continued. Briefings ran with military precision. The headquarters felt colder, quieter, sharper.

The girls didn’t know the truth. But WOOHP did.

“Mac” was actually Tim Scam—once the agency’s most brilliant major weapon technician. He had designed half of WOOHP’s most powerful tech, created entire arsenals from scratch, and knew the organization inside out. Twenty years ago they fired him for terrorism, money laundering, and mass destruction, severing all ties and burying his name like a shameful secret. He vanished for decades… until he slipped back into WOOHP under a false identity.

The girls had no idea they were reporting to a man who despised WOOHP down to its foundations.

Still, even with his hidden agenda, his behavior toward Gabrielle was unmistakably different. Not spoken. Not admitted. Just present.

That afternoon in the tech bay, the tension was already building. Mac stood beside a long metal table lined with gadgets: booster belts, stun bracelets, grappling cartridges, and laser cosmetics. He went through the briefing with his usual cool efficiency, handing Sam her standard set, passing Clover hers with no reaction, and giving Alex an identical batch.

Then he picked up a separate set.

Smoother. More advanced. Custom-built with a level of detail the others didn’t receive.

He placed the entire collection into Gabrielle’s hands without offering a single explanation.

Sam narrowed her eyes. Clover whispered something sharp under her breath. Alex shot Gabrielle a “did you SEE that?” look.

Mac didn’t acknowledge any of it. He dismissed them.

The three girls walked out in a storm of confusion and annoyance, the door sliding shut behind them.

Gabrielle turned to follow—until Mac’s low voice cut through the room.

“Gabrielle.”

He didn’t reveal who he truly was. He didn’t explain why he was stopping only her. He didn’t let anything slip.