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Chapter 26 - Glass Walls
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2025-07-24 16:46:15
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Undercover Hearts Chapter 126 – Breaking Point
MarcusThe café explodes into chaos.Not literally, but it feels like it. One moment Elena is sipping her coffee, smooth and dangerous, the next her eyes snap to Herbert’s chest like she’s spotted the wire. I know that look. Suspicion calcifying into certainty.“Now,” Gillespie barks in my ear.I’m already moving. Door slammed open, boots hitting wet pavement, the kind of tunnel vision that years of Bureau training engrains in you. Target identified, no hesitation.Elena’s chair scrapes back hard enough to topple, coffee spilling across the table like blood. She doesn’t freeze, she pivots sharply, eyes cutting toward the exit. Always running the angles.“Marcus?” Her voice lifts in disbelief, like maybe I’m the one who betrayed her. It hits harder than it should.“FBI,” I shout, badge flashing as I cross the threshold. “Don’t move!”She does the opposite.Her coat flares as she bolts for the back door, heels skidding on the café’s tile. Herbert yelps, nearly tripping over his own chai
Undercover Hearts Chapter 125 – The Snare Tightens
MarcusStakeouts are a bastard. Long stretches of nothing, punctuated by heartbeats that could end your career. Or your life. Today is one of those.The café is ordinary by design. Mismatched chairs, chalkboard menus, a barista with a host of piercings pulling shots at the machine. Outside, the air smells faintly of rain on concrete, the street slick and gray. It’s the kind of place Elena would consider safe, respectable, unremarkable. Exactly what Sophia predicted.I’m in plain clothes three doors down, sitting in an unmarked van that hums faintly with comms. A mic in my ear hisses with every clipped order Gillespie gives.Herbert’s inside, wire taped to his chest, looking like a man waiting to be executed. Which, if Elena catches the game, he might as well be.The door chimes, and my gut clenches. Elena enters. Tailored coat, hair sharp enough to cut, smile set to charm. To anyone else, she looks like the picture of poise. To me, she’s suddenly danger wrapped in couture.Herbert ri
Undercover Hearts Chapter 124 – Baiting the Trap
MarcusHerbert Lane looks like a man who’s been caught in a thunderstorm without an umbrella and never dried off. Even sitting in the Bureau’s borrowed conference room, he’s damp with sweat, his shirt sticking to his chest, hair plastered in uncertain directions.“I don’t know if I can do this,” he says for the fifth time, voice trembling. “She’ll kill me. You don’t understand-”“You’ve mentioned,” I cut in, keeping my tone flat. If I let his panic build, we’ll be here all night. “Your choices are pretty simple, Herbert. Prison. Or helping us make sure Elena goes down before she can touch you.”His eyes dart like a cornered animal’s, and I can practically hear the hamster wheel of fear squeaking in his brain. He’s not noble, never will be. But desperation is leverage.“Look,” I add, leaning forward, lowering my voice. “You know Elena. You know Bainbridge. You’re a loose end whether you help us or not. The only shot you have is making yourself more valuable to us than to them.”He swal
Undercover Hearts Chapter 123 – Operation Glass House
GillespieThe rented office is the kind of place you’d never look twice at from the street. It’s perfect exactly because it’s so unassuming.I’ve run meetings in war rooms with walls plastered in screens and the hum of a dozen analysts in the background. But sometimes the smartest play isn’t a glossy Bureau building with a badge at the door.It’s four stories up in a former insurance office with a flickering fluorescent light and a vending machine that hasn’t worked since the Obama administration.We’re six around the table. Me, two analysts, one surveillance lead, a junior agent typing as if her fingers might combust, and, because apparently my life is a constant exercise in patience, Marcus Blackwood.Technically, he’s not supposed to be here. But “technically” hasn’t gotten us within spitting distance of Elena Blackwood, and Marcus is the only one who can get close to her without rousing suspicion.I clear my throat, flicking through the file in front of me. “We all know why we’re
Undercover Hearts Chapter 122 – Close Calls and Ironies
MarcusThe news hits before sunrise. One of Bainbridge’s record offices went up in smoke. Not a full building blaze, just a single storage unit, torched neat enough to look like bad wiring if you don’t know better. But Gillespie and I know. They’re scrubbing.I pace Jamie’s living room, phone clamped to my ear, listening to updates filter in. Each detail is a needle. Elena’s not slowing down. She’s accelerating, burning the trail behind her before the Bureau can catch up.Sophia watches from the couch, bundled in one of Jamie’s plaid blankets, eyes sharp despite the exhaustion lining her face. She doesn’t ask what Gillespie said. She reads it on me.“She’s destroying evidence.” Her voice is quiet but certain.I nod. “And planting stories. Whispers about me, about you. Nothing concrete yet, but she’s trying to spin this before the Bureau locks her in.”Jamie emerges from the kitchen with three mugs of tea and sets them down with a flourish that would almost be funny if my chest didn’t
Undercover Hearts Chapter 121 – The Road Attempt
SophiaThe wipers can’t keep up. Rain slashes sideways across the windshield, water hissing beneath the tires as I guide the car along the slick ribbon of asphalt. The headlights carve shaky cones through the storm, and I grip the wheel tighter, jaw set.It was supposed to be a simple run, with me leaving first and Marcus following later. A decoy, a routine shuffle to keep eyes off Marrin and confuse anyone watching. I insisted on it. I wanted to pull my weight, to prove I wasn’t the fragile one needing constant shadowing.But halfway down the stretch of highway, the brake pedal goes soft beneath my foot.I press harder, but nothing happens.Cold panic lances up my spine. The car doesn’t slow, doesn’t respond to my wishes. It just barrels forward as if mocking me.“Shit,” I hiss, my breath fogging the inside of the glass. I pump the brake, again, harder. Still nothing. The wheel jerks in my hands when water gathers beneath the tires. My pulse detonates in my ears.Someone cut my brake
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