CHAPTER 12 #2
I stop the meeting. I turn my entire body toward her, completely ignoring the rest of the room.
I demand she explain the exact rotation of the FBI’s surveillance satellites and the specific radio frequencies used by Trenton’s tactical teams. I’m forcing a direct violation of the Espionage Act in front of a room full of criminals.
Her hand hovers over the map. Her fingers are twitching.
Do it. Break for me. Show me you're as dark as I am.
"They're waiting, Alessia. Whose side are you on? The frequencies. Now. Show them why I kept you alive."
She looks up at me. Her eyes are hollowed out, dark, fully consumed.
Then she opens her mouth and starts talking.
Her voice is cold, a monotone recitation of highly classified federal data.
She outlines the exact blind spots in the regional net, local SWAT response times, and the personal weaknesses of Trenton’s payroll agents.
She is selling them out with terrifying precision.
I let a dark, triumphant smile spread across my face.
Beautiful. She was never meant for the light.
"Frequency 142.8. They rotate every six hours."
"Trenton doesn't trust the local police; they'll be on their own."
"Use the industrial sector as a baffle; their thermal won't pick you up."
"Is that enough for you, Ivy?"
Sven tries one last desperate counter-attack, mocking her intel, calling it a setup.
Alessia doesn't even look at me for help. She stands up, leans all the way across the table, and systematically tears Sven’s proposed ambush plan to fucking shreds.
She points out three distinct ways his men would be slaughtered within minutes based on current tactical doctrine.
She is vicious and undeniably correct. She taps the map so hard the tip of the pen snaps and bleeds black ink onto the paper.
My god, I want to fuck her right here on this table. Look at that fire.
"Your plan is suicide, Sven. If you want to die, do it on your own time. Not Leon's. I’ve spent three years studying how to kill people like you. Maybe you should listen to someone who actually knows how to win."
I don't say a goddamn word. I just lace my hands behind my head and watch Sven wither. Ivy gives a slow nod of respect. Alessia just earned her seat through pure lethal competence. I catch Ivy’s eye and give a microscopic nod. She didn't just survive. She conquered. Now, I'm going to reward her.
"Anything else to add, Sven? Ivy, adjust the routes based on her data. We move at midnight. The meeting is adjourned."
The room starts filing out. I reach over, wrap my hand around the back of Alessia’s neck, and pull her to me.
My fingers dig into the roots of her hair.
It’s a primal, territorial mark right in front of my lieutenants.
I trace her collarbone with my thumb, dipping right under the silk of her blouse while I whisper against her skin.
I'm going to mark her so deeply she'll never forget what she did today.
"You were perfect. Don't move. Wait for them to leave. You're shaking again, Alessia. I can feel it."
Sven is the last one out. He shoots a look of pure, unadulterated hatred at her before he slams the door so hard the hinges rattle. I don't let go of her neck. I stand up, pulling her with me, looming over her. I kick a fallen chair out of the way without breaking eye contact.
"He's gone. Now it's just us. Do you know what you just did, Alessia? You just burned your soul for me."
She is trembling violently. The high of the debate crashed and the reality of her treason is crushing her. She tries to twist away but my grip is fucking iron. Her knees buckle slightly and I catch her, dragging her flush against my chest.
"Look at me. Don't look at the floor. Look at what you've become. You loved it. Admit it. You felt more alive in those ten minutes than in ten years at the Bureau."
I don't give her a second to answer. I grab her upper arm and drag her out of the conference room. We aren’t going to the exit.
I pull her deeper into the hub, down the cold corridor toward the secure storage rooms. My boots hit the concrete fast. I am so fucking hard I can barely walk straight.
I need to be inside her immediately. We pass a security camera and I don't even blink because my people know better than to breathe a word about what I do.
"Keep up. Don't say a word. In here. Now."
I shove her into a small, dimly lit room packed with server racks and crates of tactical gear.
I slam the heavy steel door and twist the deadbolt.
The lock engages with a finality that makes her jump out of her skin.
I strip my suit jacket off and throw it onto a stack of crates.
I'm going to break the last of her resistance right here.
"Nobody comes in here without my permission. You're trapped, Alessia. Admit what you felt at that table. Tell me you liked being a criminal."
I back her up until she hits the cold concrete wall.
My frame boxes her in completely. I don't touch her yet. I just let my physical presence suffocate her. I want her to admit it. She bites her lower lip so hard a bead of blood wells up. I reach out and swipe the drop of blood onto my finger. She’s right there.
I can see it in her eyes. The darkness is winning.
"You felt like a god, didn't you? Better than being a nameless cog in their machine. Tell me. Say it, and I'll give you what you want."
She breaks. A jagged, jerky little nod. Her eyes are wide and completely swallowed by shame and dark, primal desire.
I let out a low growl. I lunge. My mouth crashes into hers with all the violent, repressed need I’ve been hoarding for three years.
I grip her hair, yank her head back to expose her throat, and scrape my teeth right over the pounding vein. Finally. No more lies.
"There it is. My good, bad girl. You're mine now. Entirely mine."
I slam my body into hers. The impact knocks the air straight out of her lungs.
I cage her against the rough concrete, planting my hands flat on the wall on either side of her head.
I shove my knee roughly between her thighs, forcing her legs apart and hiking her skirt up in the process.
I stare her down, wanting to crush her until she's part of me.
"Do you feel that? That's the only law that matters here. Look at how much you want this."
I grab her jaw, my fingers digging hard into her cheeks, and force her face up.
I kiss her again, open-mouthed and punishing.
I taste the iron of her blood and her pure desperation.
I shove my tongue past her teeth, demanding an entry she can't stop.
I bite down on her bottom lip hard enough to make her gasp, then immediately suck the blood away.
"Open for me. That's it. Don't you dare look away."
Her federal training kicks in for half a second.
Her hands come up to shove my chest but I’m too fast. I snatch both her wrists in one hand, yank them over her head, and pin them flat against the wall.
I press my thumb right into the inside of her wrist, feeling her frantic, racing pulse hammering against my skin.
I love the way she struggles. It makes the surrender so much sweeter.
"Still fighting, Agent? You’re too weak to stop me. Give up."
I break the kiss to drag my mouth down her throat.
My stubble scrapes her skin like sandpaper.
I find the exact spot where her pulse is jumping and I sink my teeth in.
I don't nip, I bite down with a heavy, marking pressure that is going to leave a dark bruise for a week. I whisper filthy, degrading praise right against her ear, letting the vibration of my voice sink into her bones. She’s finally letting go. I can feel the tension snapping.
"You looked so fucking beautiful selling them out. The way you destroyed Sven... you were born for this. My perfect, lethal bitch."