Chapter 26 - Anna
Istare at the clock on the table. It's just ticking away, sending my worry deeper into chaos.
I pace the length of the hotel room because I can't sit still.
My eyes dart to the door every other second, praying for a knock or the handle to turn and reveal Gabriel.
But as the minutes go by, my anxiety morphs into a gnawing dread.
The knot tightens in my stomach. There are a few things that don't sit well with me.
One, Gabriel gave me the keycard. I haven't been given a way to leave voluntarily since arriving.
Two, the way Luca threw the glass and left.
And three, how matter-of-fact Gabriel told me to stay here and not leave.
I feel like something is about to break, and it's been hours since they left together.
Is Gabriel in danger?
Is he okay? Will I be?
"Fuck!" I yell as everything I'm feeling finally comes to a head. "It's suffocating in here."
I walk over to the window, push the heavy drapes aside, and open it as far as it'll go, which is only a few inches since I'm up so high.
I inhale deeply and catch my own reflection staring back at me from the glass. The woman I see is a far cry from Anna Bennett, the FBI agent. The cracks of my desires and thoughts of Gabriel are beginning to show.
Just how much of me is Sofia now?
I turn away and wonder how our worlds can be so far removed from one another, yet here I am, caught in Gabriel's gravity with no way out.
I close my eyes and exhale slowly as memories of our night together flood back to me in vivid detail.
His intensity as he commanded every inch of my body in that hidden room; the way his powerful hands caressed me like I was something precious made me feel utterly possessed.
The raw urgency in his voice. Even now, I feel as if his scent lingers on my skin, igniting desires that could very well destroy us both.
But where is he now?
Every minute that goes by without word from him leaves me feeling more vulnerable. I know some would say to show patience, but that's a virtue I don't have right now, so screw those people.
I sit on the couch and take a few more deep breaths, welcoming the cool, fresh air.
Just as I'm about to lean back, I jump up at the sound of a knock at the door.
My heart leaps into my throat as I almost run to answer it.
However, I stop dead in my tracks when I see the small monitor showing the outside hallway and no one is in view.
What the… I think to myself.
There's no Gabriel, no Luca, no one. An uneasy feeling creeps up inside me.
What if something went terribly wrong and he's sending a message?
I turn and look around the room as if I'll find an answer.
A soft knock sounds again, more insistent this time. I turn back to the screen, and again, no one.
"Who's there?" I say in a demanding tone.
My mind races with possibilities of who's on the other side, each one more terrifying than the last.
"Sofia?" a voice calls out quietly from beyond the wooden barrier that separates me from God knows what dangers.
"I don't see you on the screen," I say, fear beginning to crack my voice.
"You won't. Please, open up. I don't have much time. I know you have the keycard."
"What? How?" I'm so confused.
"Small flat white… cinnamon on the lid," the voice says, and then I connect the dots. His voice—it's the person from the coffee shop.
I scan the keycard and slowly open the door to see the man who I met in the bathroom and gave my notes to standing before me.
"What? I didn't—"
"We've looped the video, but I only have a few minutes," the man says.
"Wait, if you could do this the whole time, why now?" I ask, upset.
"We knew you had the keycard to unlock the door and were alone. Look, we can't trust everyone here, and us meeting is a big risk, but we're making it."
I can tell something is off and that even he is a bit uncomfortable being here.
"Things are escalating much more rapidly than we thought, and we've got intel that you may have been compromised. I'm here to offer you a way out. Now, there was a split on this since it's not known, but—"
The words hit me like a train, and my head spins.
Compromised? How? How could that be?
"A split?" I blurt out as he's talking. "What does that mean?"
"Some leading this wanted you to stay; some thought it best to pull you out."
"Okay. And how credible is the source?"
"Very, but who told her—I mean, them—isn't."
So, a woman is the other person working this.
After all I've been through, and now my whole mess with Gabriel and my fucked-up feelings—I can't just leave.
"No, I'm staying. I don't think I'm compromised."
The man looks surprised. He must have been one of the ones to vote to pull me out.
He lets out an audible sigh. "Okay, stay vigilant. Something bad is coming. Watch your six."
I nod.
"Here," he says and pulls out a small gun from under his shirt. "Take this, just in case."
I grab the gun and feel the cool steel in my hands. "Thank you," I say and bring it behind my back.
"Anything you want me to take back to the team?" he asks.
I know I have to give them something. I won't give them what they want, or who they want for now—maybe just a little intel to keep them happy.
"Tonight, Luca met with the Greeks and Polish. I assume they will join and fight with the Italians."
I wasn't sure they had agreed, but I could alter my facts later once I found out.
He nods and walks toward the elevator. I shut the door, and as it locks, I know that my fate is now sealed. I've chosen to stay, and whatever happens, it's on me.
I stare down at the gun in my hand, its presence oddly comforting.
The gun represents everything I once stood for—justice, duty, my unwavering commitment to my role as an FBI agent. But now, as I hold it, I feel more like a fraud. The lines have blurred beyond recognition, and I'm not sure which version of myself I'm supposed to be anymore—Anna or Sofia.
Thankfully, it'll be easy to conceal, and a part of me hopes I'll never need to use it. I also truly hope I haven't been exposed.
Compromised.
Who was the woman that told them, and were they lying?
My thoughts drift, and Gabriel's face floods my vision. His intense gaze, the way his jaw clenches when he's focused, the gentleness in his touch on my skin. My breath catches in my throat as I remember the things he's done to me and how he made me feel more alive than I've ever felt before.
"Fuck," I mutter, gripping the gun tighter. Maybe this is exactly why someone thinks I'm compromised.
Because maybe I am.
I move to the full-length mirror in the bedroom and raise the gun, pointing it at my reflection.
"Who are you?" I ask the woman in the mirror. "Anna or Sofia?"
The silence that follows is an unspoken statement. I can't, or won't, answer my question.
I lower the gun.
I've crossed so many lines, blurred so many boundaries, that I'm not sure I can find my way back even if I wanted to.
And do I want to?
The thought hits me like a punch. Do I really want to go back to my old life? To leave behind this world of passion that Gabriel has shown me? The rational part of my brain screams at me to remember my duty, to think of Bill and the mission. But my heart—my heart beats to a different story.
"Get it together," I say to myself. "You're in too deep."
But even as I say the words, I know it's too late. I'm already drowning in the depths of my feelings for Gabriel.
I move away from the mirror and sit on the edge of the bed, the gun still in my hand.
If Gabriel wasn't in the picture, would I have stayed? Is it truly about the mission or something far more complex?
I walk back out into the living room and take a seat on the couch. I feel my legs getting weak from all my constant movement. I must have walked the equivalent of 50 miles since I came back to my room.
A wave of tiredness comes over me, and I feel that all my worrying has caught up with me, and my body can no longer pretend how drained I am.
I slip the gun under a cushion and lay my head down over it. My eyes grow heavy as exhaustion finally takes hold, but even as I drift off, one terrifying thought circles in my mind: if I am compromised, would Gabriel be the one to kill me? That's what men like him do.
In my last moments of consciousness, I realize that I've fallen for the very man who would be given the job of putting a bullet in my head.
The sound of footsteps in the hallway follows me into my dreams.