19. Natalia
NINETEEN
I must’ve been out of my mind when I decided it was a great idea to sneak in an afternoon of freedom. But I needed a break.
Sure, ditching my cover for a few hours was a gamble. Still, the need to reconnect with Natalia—the woman I was before the boundaries of my real self and my alter ego began to smudge—was too overwhelming. Plus, the thought of Valentina’s radiant smile and upbeat vibe lifted my spirits instantly. That sunshine girl was the antidote to cure my darkness. So when she called me for a coffee date, telling me she had gossip so sinister it could only be said in person, the temptation was too strong.
I peeled off the form-fitting dress, the fabric sighing as it slipped to the floor. I kicked away the agonizing heels that had carried me through the cartel’s difficult terrain.
I slipped into my trusty t-shirt and jeans, and fuck, it felt like pure bliss, the soft fabric a warm embrace from my true self that this undercover op had slowly been smothering.
As I strolled down the apartment stairs in my comfortable jeans and T-shirt, I felt liberated. But as I came out the front, my cop senses started tingling. Parked across my building was a black Escalade with tinted windows—nothing out of the ordinary—except for the fact that I’d never seen that car parked here before the entire two months I’d lived here. Now it was, and my instincts were screaming at me to pay attention.
I tried to tell myself I was being paranoid, that it was just a coincidence. But something about that car set my teeth on edge. So, I jumped in my car and did what any self-respecting DEA agent would do: I changed my route, doubling back and taking the long way to the cafe downtown.
I spotted the same Escalade a few cars behind me, but after several detours, I no longer saw it—false alarm.
When I finally arrived at the cafe, Val was already waiting for me with two cups of strong Cuban coffee and a stack of pancakes that would put any Instagram influencer to shame.
“Dios mío, I’ve missed this,” I sighed, taking a sip of the coffee and letting the familiar taste wash over me. “How are you holding up, Val?”
She shrugged, her dark eyes watching me closely. “Better now that you’re here. I’ve been worried sick about you, Nat. This undercover gig of yours is killing me.”
I smiled at her, grateful for her concern, even as I felt a pang of guilt. “I know, and I’m sorry. But I promise, I’m okay. This operation is just... a little intense.” I wasn’t quite ready to share details with Val, remembering Morrow’s warning that everything had to go through him.
We spent the next few hours laughing, catching up on all the crazy things that had happened since we last saw each other. It was like old times, like nothing had changed. But, of course, everything had changed. Matt was killed, and I was deep undercover with the fucking cartel.
As we polished off the last of the pancakes, I noticed Val seemed off, like something was bothering her that she wasn’t telling me.
“Hey, are you okay?” I asked, reaching across the table to squeeze her hand. “You seem...”
She hesitated, her eyes darting away from mine. “It’s nothing, really.”
“Talk to me, Val. What’s going on?”
“I met Jason at a party, totally drunk, and he totally hit on me,” Val told me, searching my face for a reaction.
“Jason?” The mention of his name hit me hard, even months later. But, I’d moved on, shoved him into a tiny box labeled “trash,” and buried it deep.
“Yeah, that loser.” Val rolled her eyes, shaking her head. “I swear, he’s even more of a slimeball than I remembered. He was all over me like a cheap suit, and I had to practically threaten to break his arm to get him to back off.”
“The very memory of that assclown makes my fists itch,” I said through gritted teeth.
“Dude’s a total waste,” Val agreed, her eyes narrowing. “And he’s still digging himself a deeper hole, by the sounds of it.”
I arched an eyebrow, curiosity getting the better of me. “Oh, yeah? What’s he done now?”
“Served himself a big old slice of karma, that’s what,” she snorted derisively. “Turns out his little ‘fling’ didn’t appreciate being treated like a piece of meat. Melissa dumped his sorry ass, and now he’s sofa surfing, probably still trying to snake his way between some poor girl’s sheets.”
“Couldn’t happen to a more deserving douche,” I said, feeling a savage delight in his downfall. “Guess his charm offensive ran out of gas.”
“Damn straight,” Val laughed, taking a slug of her coffee. “Just goes to show, Nat, that you dodged a bullet there. That guy was a walking, talking disaster.”
I nodded, the coffee suddenly tasting like victory. “You can say that again. Love may be blind, but I should’ve seen that coming. My gut was telling me to run, but no, I had to learn the hard way.”
“Love?” Val scoffed. “That waste of space wasn’t worth a single tear, let alone a heartbreak. He can rot in the bed he made.”
Her loyalty never failed to bring a smile to my face. “You’re damn right, and I’m thankful that toxicity is out of my life.”
Taking another bite of the pancake, I soaked in the comfort of the food and Val’s unwavering friendship. She was the sharp-tongued, honest-as-hell guardian angel on my shoulder, keeping me from stepping into the same pile of shit twice.
“Anyway, enough about that asshole.” She waved her hand in dismissal, her eyes softening. “You didn’t come here to talk about him. So girl, dish, any hunky guys falling for your sexy fake-ass undercover persona?”
A slow smile spread across my face as I thought of Dante. “Maybe,” I teased, enjoying the playful moment.
Val’s eyes widened, and she sat up straighter, her face mixed with excitement and concern. “Ooh, la la! Spill the beans, girl! Any sparks?”
I practically cackled, leaning across the table with a devilish glint in my eye. “Oh, there’s sparks, alright. More like a full-blown fireworks show. But, that’s all I can say for now.” I shot a quick glance at my phone, the time glaring back at me like a neon sign. Crap, it was late. Better leave before playing with fire – getting caught by Dante or Sofia in this cozy cafe was a big no-no for my secret agent life.
I stood and hugged Val like it might be the last time. “Keep your ear to the ground for any Jason whispers, will ya?” I said, not quite ready to admit that our next chat could be ages away, potentially lost in the abyss of months.
The bright sunlight assaulted my eyes as I burst out of the diner. I fetched my sunglasses and scanned the street, my gaze darting from car to car, searching for any sign of the black Escalade that had set my nerves on edge.
Luckily, the street was clear, the sidewalks bustling with the usual midday crowd: no mysterious vehicles, no shadowy figures lurking in doorways. I paused momentarily, trying to calm the adrenaline coursing through my veins.
I drove back to the apartment, but instead of taking my usual route, I drove through side streets and alleys, doubling back and changing course at random intervals. It was a habit I had picked up in my early days with the DEA, a way to shake any potential tails and ensure I wasn’t being followed.
After reaching my building, I took the stairs two at a time, my keys already in hand as I approached my door. A glance confirmed that the lock was undisturbed, the tiny piece of tape I had placed as a makeshift seal still intact.
I slipped inside, locking the door behind me and leaning against it heavily. My apartment was just as I had left it, with every item in its place and no sign of intrusion or disturbance. But as I scanned the familiar space, I couldn’t shake the unease that had settled deep in my bones.
I collapsed onto the couch, my head falling into my hands. What was wrong with me? Why was I seeing threats around every corner, jumping at shadows like a paranoid conspiracy theorist? I had always prided myself on my level-headedness and ability to keep calm under pressure. But now, it felt like that facade was crumbling, the cracks in my armor widening with every passing day.
A nagging voice in the back of my mind whispered that this job was wearing me down and that the constant vigilance and deception were taking their toll. I had been undercover for weeks now, living and breathing the persona of Eva Morales. But with each passing day, the lines between Natalia and Eva blurred a little more, until I wasn’t sure where one ended and the other began.
And then there was Dante, who had started as just another target, another steppingstone on the path to bringing down the cartel. But somewhere along the way, he had become something more—a temptation.