Chapter 14 #2
The apartment was quiet, save for the low hum of the fridge and the occasional rustle of Mateo shifting on the couch.
After checking every door and window—then peering outside for the hundredth time—he’d made himself a cup of coffee and settled in for the long overnight shift.
She’d offered him a pillow and blanket, but he’d waved her off.
“I’m here to protect you, babe, not nap. ”
The scent of garlic and rosemary lingered in the air. Facing a rare evening off, after class, she’d had him swing by the grocery store. Her signature chicken caprese had been a hit—judging by the empty pan soaking in the sink and the fact that Mateo had three helpings.
She should be asleep. It was nearly midnight, and she didn’t have to be up at dawn to sling hash and refill coffee cups.
But instead of catching up on rest, she sat cross-legged in bed, her father’s journals fanned out in front of her.
Some sketches were graphic and made her stomach twist. Her laptop cast a bluish glow across the rumpled sheets, tabs open, search results half read.
Her eyes burned from too much screen time and not enough blinking.
The journals were a jumble of dates, names, and shorthand she didn’t fully understand. But Ethan’s notes jotted in the margins kept her anchored. He’d been chasing something. So had their dad. And now she was chasing ghosts.
Her phone buzzed on the nightstand.
She hesitated, seeing Alec’s name. Then answered, “Hey.”
“Hope it’s not too late,” he said, voice rough with fatigue. “I just finished up for the night.”
“I wasn’t asleep,” she said, lying back and pulling up the covers. She didn’t mention the rabbit hole of search results or the fact she’d been playing junior detective for the past few hours.
“How’d it go with Mateo?”
“He hasn’t broken anything, if that’s what you’re asking. He’s currently stalking my windows, even though I’m on the fourth floor, and swilling my coffee.”
Alec grunted. “Sounds about right.”
“He’s actually kind of sweet.”
Laughter burst from him. “Don’t let him hear you say that.”
“Why? What am I missing?”
“He’s a club member, sweetheart. Also, one of the few true sadists in our membership.”
“No way!”
“Yeah. Don’t test him. If you think I spank hard—”
“He wouldn’t!”
“I was teasing, Em. He wouldn’t. If he did, I’d knock his teeth down his throat.”
There was a pause. Silence stretched—not awkward but charged. Full of everything they hadn’t said last night.
“I’ve been thinking about us,” he said at length.
Her treacherous heart did a flip. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. We’ve got unfinished business.”
“I know.” Too soft.
She winced. Of course he’d heard it—the pause, the weight behind her words.
“I want to see where this goes,” he said. “But we’ve got to be in the same room to do that. Alone.”
She smiled faintly. “What about breakfast? For once, I’m not serving it. Just no waffles, please.”
“Sorry, baby. I’ve got a nine o’clock meeting. Dev’s been on a tear with them lately.”
“What about Thursday for lunch? I don’t have class until two, but I’ve got an event with Regina after that.”
“That doesn’t work for me.”
She sighed, rolling onto her side. “Is fate or the calendar trying to tell us something?”
“It’s saying we’re both spread too thin and need to make some adjustments.”
“Adjustments don’t pay my rent,” she said quietly.
There was a beat then his voice dropped. “You’re juggling too much. You should let me take care of you, Em.”
His words sat between them, heavy and complicated. When she didn’t respond, he growled softly. “Have you always been this stubborn?”
She smiled, despite everything. “You’ve known me for how long?”
His frustrated sigh filled her ears before he said, “Long enough to know you’re worth the fight.”
Her breath caught. It was the sweetest thing ever—and he’d said a lot. She didn’t know how to answer.
Luckily, he wasn’t expecting her to.
“Get some sleep. We’ll figure it out.”
She hoped so. But she didn’t say that. Instead, she whispered, “Good night, Alec.”
“Night, baby.”
When the call ended, she stared at the ceiling. Her chest ached—not with fear but with something far more dangerous.
Hope.
She should do what he suggested—turn off the light and go to sleep—but the journals called to her.
Three things kept surfacing: Denali. Gold Coast. Shipment codes.
She typed “Denali” into the search bar. The results loaded slowly, as if the internet itself hesitated.
Then it returned a flood of hits. Number one: Denali crime family.
She clicked on the easiest—Wikipedia—and scanned the long line of bosses over the past century.
Vittorio Denali, the patriarch, long deceased.
His son, Benito, followed, also deceased.
Most recently, another son, Vincenzo—convicted of conspiracy to commit murder and racketeering, with drug and sex trafficking charges pending.
He was the one shot in Miami that Alec had mentioned.
Emily stared at the screen, her pulse thudding in her ears.
Her father had been closing in. Ethan had picked up the trail. And now, they were both gone.
She slumped in the chair, the weight of what she’d learned a cinder block pressing down on her chest. When she could breathe again, she rose, slipped into her robe, and, with the most incriminating journal in hand, went to have a chat—and a cup of coffee—with Mateo.
***
Alec was halfway through his second espresso when the door opened, and Emily walked in.
She had her hair in a ponytail, her eyes shadowed with exhaustion, but her posture was straight, almost defiant.
Mateo followed behind her, carrying a banker’s box.
He set it on the conference table with a thud that made his gut clench.
“What’s this?” Alec asked, him, his eyes locked on Emily.
“Her dad’s case notes,” Mateo supplied. “Ethan added his own before they took him out.”
“They?” Dev asked sharply.
Emily answered, her voice steady even though her hands trembled. She curled them into fists to make them stop. “My dad and Ethan were both chasing the traffickers. There are shipment codes in here, names and dates. Gold Coast Catering shows up more than once.”
Leland was already flipping through a notebook.
Dev leaned in beside him, scanning quickly.
Alec stayed seated, watching her. She hadn’t slept.
He could see it in the tightness around her mouth, the way she refused to let her shoulders sag.
She was holding herself together with nothing but coffee and determination, and it showed.
“This is the first real break we’ve had,” Dev said, pacing the length of the room. “The trail is years old, except for Gold Coast. We need to get someone inside—”
“I’m already inside,” Emily said. “Use me.”
Alec shot out of his chair so fast, it rolled and slammed into the wall. “Absolutely not.”
Emily rose too. “I’m the obvious choice. I know the staff, the routine, the layout.”
“You’re not trained,” he snapped. “This isn’t keeping a soufflé from falling, it’s a trafficking ring. And you’re not doing this.”
Dev held up a hand. “Alec—”
“No.” Alec’s voice cracked like a whip. “You barely got Cari out of there and brought her home bloody and traumatized. You’ve told me yourself she still wakes screaming some nights. And you want Emily walking into the same shit?”
She flinched, stunned by this revelation. Dev went still, his words hitting deep.
“That’s exactly why we need to shut this down,” he said tightly. “They’ve taken scores of other women. They took Emily’s parents and brother. A brother to you too. How many others are we going to allow be sacrificed to these fuckers?”
“No more,” Emily said, coming up behind him. “They took everything from me.”
Alec spun to face her. “Not everything. I’m still here.”
That was a low blow, but he’d do what he must to talk her out of this insanity.
“I need answers.”
“Someone else will get your answers. A cop or a trained investigator, not a culinary student.”
“Regina is selective,” Emily insisted. “She expects references. Face-to-face interviews. One wrong word or a funny look, and you’re out.”
Rhys stepped in then, voice calm but hard. “He’s not wrong about the danger. But she’s right about access.”
Mateo added, “To get someone new hired and trusted could take weeks or longer. Time the girls taken don’t have.”
Alec rounded on them. “Stop talking about her like she’s an asset on a clipboard.”
“She is an asset,” Dev said quietly. “And she’s also the only thing we’ve got.”
“Then your system’s broken.” He was around the table in two strides, nose to nose with his boss, and friend. “If you think I’m letting her walk in with a wire and a smile, you’re out of your mind.”
“You think I want to send her?” Dev exploded, shocking everyone.
The man never raised his voice. “After what they did to Cari? After seeing those bloody cages? Don’t you dare act like I’m casual about this.
But we can’t lose this chance. And Emily has something none of us do—she isn’t on their radar. ”
He felt Emily behind him, her hand on his back. “I need to do this, Alec.”
He turned and looked down at her and saw it.
She was scared, but completely determined, and already moving ahead in her mind.
“You made up your mind before you walked in,” he said quietly.
She nodded once. Then she reached into the box and pulled out a worn notebook. She opened it to a random page and held it out to him. Notes covered the margins. They were Ethan’s—sharp, frantic, familiar.
“You haven’t moved on either, Knight,” she murmured. “But if we stop this and uncover all the answers, maybe we’ll both get to breathe again.”
Dev cleared his throat, in control when he stated, “Rhys and Mateo will work logistics. Leland and Callan will oversee tech. She’ll never be alone. Not for a second.”
Leland nodded. “We’ll have eyes on her the whole time. Audio, visual, GPS. If she sneezes, we’ll know.”
Alec’s hands curled into fists. “I don’t want you doing this.”
Emily touched him, her hand flat on his chest this time. “I know. But I need to.”
He heard Rhys’s voice in his head. When he sought him out after the almost-kiss gone wrong, when he’d acted like a complete asshole. You don’t get to choose how she heals.
Alec closed his eyes.
Dammit! He wanted her whole, but not like this.
But how did he stop her? He could only stand between her and the danger.
When he opened them, his voice was raw. “Fine. But if she’s going in, everything goes by me. The second anything looks wrong, I pull her.”
Dev considered—long, tense—then nodded. “Done.”
Emily inhaled, shaky but resolved. “I have an event with Regina tonight. Wire me up, and I’ll start right away.”
“Callan will—” Dev began.
“No,” Alec cut in. “I’ve got her.”
Despite the unease knotting his gut, he took her hand and led her out of the conference room, down the hall, to the equipment room. It smelled of gun oil and adrenaline as he laid out the gear she’d need: wire mic, GPS tracker, panic button. Each piece felt like surrendering her to danger.
Emily perched on the edge of the table, looking around the room, eyes wide as she took in the tools of his trade. Weapons, ammo, and nonlethal things—pepper spray, transmitters, and tactical gear.
She had said little since the meeting. He knew her well, though. Her silence wasn’t retreat—it was resolve.
“I think I’ve seen this in a spy movie,” she murmured.
“It’s not Hollywood, Em. It’s very real. We do domestic cases, but Dev also contracts with local, state, and federal agencies, including the FBI’s trafficking division.”
Her eyes flicked up. “Somehow I thought this job was less dangerous than being a cop.”
“Most cases are, but when dealing with criminals, even white collar, there is always risk. Which is why I don’t want you involved.”
“I don’t want to be involved either. I need to be,” she repeated. “Can you understand that?”
“I do,” he said with a sigh. He clipped a micro-transmitter to her bra strap, fingers steady despite the panic clawing at his chest. “This is only one way. We can’t risk your cover with white noise or artifact. We’ll be able to hear everything. It’s sensitive, so you can whisper if needed.”
“Who’s on the other end? The command center?”
“We’re sticking close. Someone will be monitoring from the van outside. The range is solid, but stay within the venue perimeter,” he stated.
She nodded.
He knelt, slipped off her shoe, and pressed a tracker no bigger than a nickel inside. “This tracker pings every thirty seconds. If it stops, we move in.”
He stood and held out his hand, palm up. “Clip this inside the waistband of your uniform. If anything feels wrong—anything at all—you press it. Even if you’re yelling for help, hit it too. No hesitation.”
She took the dime-sized panic button, fingers brushing his skin. “I won’t hesitate.”
He studied her. Tired eyes. Steady jaw. Quiet fear but unshakeable resolve. His girl had brass balls, and no matter how insane he found this, he was damn proud of her.
“Do you know how much I hate this?” he asked her.
“Yes.”
He stepped closer, the rasp of his voice betraying his apprehension. “You should be in class right now, mastering that pastry-wrapped beef thing with the nasty capers.”
“Beef Wellington,” she said, a shaky laugh escaping. “That was almost ten years ago. You remembered.”
“How could I forget? You made me taste it and traumatized me.”
Her smile faded, but her eyes stayed warm. “I wish things were different.”
“So do I.”
Her hands came up, framing his face, her thumbs brushing the stubble along his jaw. “Please understand that I need to do this. For us. For the girls still out there. For Dad and Ethan—so their sacrifice isn’t for nothing.”
He closed his eyes and rested his forehead against hers.
“Be smart. Don’t take unnecessary risks.”
“I won’t.”
“You’re our eyes and ears inside, nothing more.”
“I know.”
“If you get hurt, I’ll never forgive Dev and Leland.”
She licked her lips, hope audible when she asked, “Does that mean you’ll forgive me?”
“Only if you come back to me.” He kissed her—soft, slow, aching. A promise and a plea.
The door creaked open.
A throat cleared. “Pardon the interruption,” Rhys said. “Emily needs to go now, or she’ll be late.”
Emily pulled away, breath shaky but her eyes steady. She hopped down from the table. Her arms surrounded him and squeezed tight before slipping past him and heading for the door.
Alec watched her go, every instinct screaming for him to stop her.
But he didn’t.
Not this time.