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Chapter 69 – Red String
Last Updated:
2025-08-07 17:43:02
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Undercover Hearts Chapter 86 – The Safer Option
SophiaPreston is the kind of man my therapist would tell me to say yes to.He’s not just safe, he’s amazing. Handsome, filthy rich, confident without all the Alpha male bullshit, capable of laughing at himself. He picks amazing restaurants without fail and always make me feel cherished. If only there was a spark, I think to myself as I look over at him.The table is set with linen napkins and enough cutlery to require a cheat sheet. There’s a bottle of wine breathing beside the bread basket, and the music is soft enough to blur into the background without demanding attention.It should be perfect. It is perfect, objectively speaking. Preston is steady, polished and gentle. He tells me about his business dealings like he knows I’ll understand the intricacies and jokes about having to wear penguin suits more often than a Bond villain.I smile. I laugh at the right moments. And somewhere deep inside, I wonder why it feels like I’m performing.He’s good company, Preston. Better than goo
Undercover Hearts Chapter 85 – Fault Tolerance
MarcusThe problem with warnings is that to me they sound more like challenges.Gillespie’s voice is still echoing in my head from this morning. Drop Marrin. He’s radioactive. Touch anything linked to him and you’ll light yourself up too.She doesn’t raise her voice, she doesn’t have to. She’s like one of those teachers who can kill an entire room’s chatter with a single arched eyebrow. But the thing is, I can’t just let it go. Every time I try to reroute my focus, Marrin’s name creeps back in. On paper. On the edges of old reports. In the damn silence when I close my eyes.Gillespie insists it’s too hot, too messy, that if the Bureau really wanted Marrin nailed they’d assign a whole team. She tells me my job is Platinum, nothing more. Stick to my cover, keep my distance, and don’t get distracted.But the distraction has a name, and a sharp smile, and a way of getting under my skin even when she’s nowhere near me.By the time I walk into Platinum’s glossy lobby tonight, I’ve already
Undercover Hearts Chapter 84 – Static Lines
SophiaThe wall has become my second heartbeat.It stares back at me from the corner of Jamie’s guest room, a patchwork of printouts, scribbles, and red string. Anyone else would probably call it unhinged. I call it necessary. It’s the only place where the noise in my head sorts itself into something resembling order.Claire’s voice is still in my ears when I grab my pen and scrawl a note in the margin of my latest lead. Liberty-Anne Hoffman. Wire transfer. Same Cayman routing number Marrin used.She’d called late afternoon, sounding tired but fierce in that way only Claire can manage, like she’s been arguing with firewalls and offshore servers all day and came out singed but victorious. The offshore transfers she traced confirmed what I already suspected. Liberty-Anne wasn’t just another overdosed socialite. She was part of the web, caught in the same sticky threads I keep tripping over.Now her name sits on my wall, a fresh Post-it angled upward, linked by a sharp red line to Marr
Undercover Hearts Chapter 83 – Undercurrent
MarcusThe thing about asking Sophia out for coffee is that it felt like throwing a live grenade and then walking away, waiting for the boom.She didn’t say yes, exactly. But she didn’t say no either. Just, A distraction from what?I typed back before I could think better of it. It’s coffee, Sophia. Not a blood pact with the devil in exchange for your immortal soul.A little pause, the kind that makes your stomach fold in on itself. Then, finally, Fine. Tomorrow though, I’m busy right now.So yeah. I’ve been replaying that exchange on a loop, like a sixteen-year-old who just scored his first date. Which is ridiculous, because I’m not sixteen, and this isn’t a date. It’s reconnaissance. Or, at least, that’s what I keep telling myself.And yet, when I wake up the next morning, I feel like someone’s rewired my chest.Coffee later. For now, work.The case file isn’t ancient, just a few years old, but it already has that lived-in feel, corners softened from being handled too many times. I
Undercover Hearts Chapter 82 – Glass Walls
SophiaThe call comes just after nine, my second cup of coffee for the day cooling beside my notebook.“Tell me you’re sitting down,” Claire says by way of hello.“I’m sitting.”“I pulled the last few tax filings for that charity you flagged. The one that went belly-up two years ago? Guess what’s buried in the final quarter before it closed?”I click my pencil. “Surprise me.”“Offshore transfers. Big ones. And before you ask, yes, they’re routed through an account owned by Marrin’s old company. I checked twice.”That snaps me fully awake. Marrin again. He’s like mildew, once you see him, you start spotting him everywhere. “Destination?”“Three different shell entities. Two in the Caymans, one in Panama. All dissolved within six months of the transfers. No surviving records I can get to without a warrant.”Which neither of us will ever have, and I’m not stupid enough to fake one.“Send me what you can,” I say.“Already in your inbox. And, Sophia? You’re getting close. Just… be careful
Undercover Hearts Chapter 81 – Pressure Points
MarcusPemberton’s file has been combed over so many times the metadata practically squeaks it’s so clean. So imagine my shock when I actually find something.A supplemental memo, dated less than two weeks before his death. It’s short, only two paragraphs, both maddeningly vague, about “coordination with external consultants for discrete asset management.”That’s Bureau-speak for moving something without a paper trail. Could be cash. Could be favors. Could be both.There’s no invoice, no contact sheet, just a redacted name where a company should be. But the phrasing is familiar enough that my gut says Bainbridge.I pull up Liberty-Anne’s calendar for the same period. She canceled a lunch meeting the day before that memo was filed. The guest field is blank. Scrubbed clean, not left empty. Whoever she was meeting, someone didn’t want it to be recorded.The three-day gap in Pemberton’s financial records is still there, glaring like a missing tooth. If someone moved cash in that window,
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