Marie opens the thick package that had been placed against the door when she returned from the market. Sticking it under her arm, she unlocks the door and walks into her apartment, shutting the door behind her with a thud as she drops onto the couch, kicking off her shoes before opening the manila envelope. Pulling out a photograph, her hand covers her mouth in a gasp when she sees Jason, sheets tangled around him in a mussed up bed that had very recently held two occupants. He's sleeping peacefully, something he's never done around her, and smiling with one hand tossed across the empty spot on the other side of the bed, as if reaching for the other occupant.
She gulps as he puts the photo, one printed on a computer using photograph paper she notes almost automatically, down and looks at the second one, a shot of Jason looking out at the water as if waiting for somebody, the next picture shows him turning towards the camera, as if he'd heard somebody calling his name.
The third picture has Jason and another man embracing, kissing slowly. The fourth picture has the other man looking directly at the camera. She gasps, her hand over her mouth. There's no mistaking the identity of the other man. The handwriting on the simple note confirms her fears. Three simple words. "He's mine Bitch."
Hearing footsteps, she turns to look at the door when it opens, gasping when she sees Jason coming into the apartment. Tears welling up in her eyes, she hurriedly brushes past him and runs out into the street, being hit by a minicooper.
Kirill slips into the apartment past Bourne silent as a shadow. He picks up the package he'd delivered earlier in the day, not wanting his mate to see what had caused Marie to run from him. For being an assassin, Bourne had a soft spot for Marie, while Kirill had no such compunctions. He'd told Bourne the truth, he wouldn't lay a hand on her. He hadn't had to.