Lahat ng Kabanata ng Undercover Hearts: Kabanata 11 - Kabanata 20

MarcusI'm sitting in my office at seven AM, staring at three manila folders spread across my desk like tarot cards predicting my professional doom.The first folder contains everything the FBI has on the case. Money laundering, suspicious deaths, a pattern of wealthy clients losing fortunes before conveniently dying in accidents. Two years of investigation, and we're no closer to finding the culprit or the connecting thread.The second folder holds my analysis of Sophia Sterling's fabricated identity. Three background checks, all pointing to the same conclusion. Whoever created her cover story has serious skills and serious resources. Corporate intelligence, government connections, maybe even foreign assets. The kind of backing that makes my FBI credentials feel suddenly inadequate.The third folder is the one that's been keeping me awake all night. It's my preliminary report on Sophia for Agent Rodriguez. The one I'm supposed to hand over in three hours. The one that will either

MarcusI'm sitting in his office, staring at Agent Rodriguez across a table that's seen better decades, with my incomplete report burning a hole in my laptop bag."So," Rodriguez says, flipping through a file folder. "Sophia Sterling. What do we know?"I should tell him everything. Instead, I hear myself saying, "She's complicated."Rodriguez looks up from his file, his weathered face settling into an expression I recognize. It's the same look my old training supervisor used to give me when I'd try to overthink a simple arrest."Complicated how?""Her background checks out, but it's... pristine. Too pristine. Like someone scrubbed it clean and built it from scratch.""What else have you got?"I shift in my chair, aware that every second of hesitation is another mark against me in Rodriguez's mental ledger. "She's smart. Observant. She asks the right questions.""The right questions about what?""About people. About motivations. About what makes someone tick." I lean forward, tryin

MarcusI need a cold shower. A very long one. Maybe an ice-bath.Instead, I’m walking down the hall with Sophia beside me, her expression shuttered, her stride tight with tension. I’ve seen her confident. I’ve seen her smug. I’ve even seen her furious.But this version of her? This vibrating-wire, don’t-touch-me-with-your-eyes version? That’s new.And it’s my fault.I push open the glass door to my office and gesture her inside, like this is just another part of the program. Like I’m not fighting the urge to push her up against a wall and kiss her until she’s dizzy. The door clicks shut behind us with the sound of a coffin closing.“Do all the compatibility sessions end with a post-mortem in the CEO’s lair?” she asks acidly.“Only the dramatic ones,” I reply, heading straight for the bar cart.She scoffs. “So just mine, then.”I pour myself water instead of whiskey and take a long, necessary sip. It doesn’t help. I still feel her, lingering in my head like heat lightning. Her voic

Chapter 18: BackchannelMarcusI shouldn’t be doing this.Not because it’s illegal, though it’s probably skimming the edge of a dozen internal policies, but because it’s personal.Too personal.I open a secure line, type in the credentials, and wait for the call to connect.It rings twice before a voice answers.“Well, well. If it isn’t the Bureau’s favorite reclusive disaster. You lose a bet or something?”“Hello to you too, Emerson,” I mutter.Emerson Wu used to run cyber intel for the FBI before burning out and retiring into the warm, chaotic arms of open-source journalism and encrypted podcasting. These days, he mostly freelances for anyone who can afford to indulge his paranoia, in order to access his incredible skills.“Why do I get the feeling you’re about to ask me for something you can’t put in writing?”“Because I am.”“Delightful.” I hear typing, then the hiss of a soda can opening. “Hit me.”“I need a background sweep. Quiet. Deep web. No agency tags. She’s using the alia

MarcusThe folder on my desk isn’t just thick. It’s radioactive.Inside is Agent Rachel Gillespie’s new identity, credentials, backstory, and insertion plan. Everything Rodriguez promised. Everything I didn’t ask for.There’s a sticky note on the front in Rodriguez’s tight handwriting. Make it believable. You have until Friday.I stare at it for a full minute before I move.Unlocking my laptop, I pull up the internal organization chart for Platinum Connections. I need to find a gap that Rachel can fill. A role that Elena won’t bother watching too closely. There’s an opening in Research & Development. Mona, the woman who usually works there, is on six months maternity leave. It’s a quiet little division, mostly dealing with algorithms and compatibility theory. It’s the perfect cover.It still feels like betrayal.I flag it, draft a personnel request, and send it to Elena before I can talk myself out of it.She responds two minutes later.New hire? Since when do we approve talent wi