CHAPTER 17 #2
"The blind spots," I said, cross-referencing the syndicate’s messy street surveillance with a highly classified federal database of recent property seizures.
I dragged two windows across the screen, overlaying the data maps with a flick of my wrist. "Look at the shell company names.
The rival crew isn't hiding in the slums. They're using the Bureau's own seizure list as a shield.
The FBI flags a property as seized, the local cops stop patrolling it, and these motherfuckers move right in. "
I adjusted my posture, leaning forward to squint at a string of code. The tight fabric of my bodysuit pulled sharply against my bandage. A sharp hiss escaped my lips as the wound throbbed violently, a fresh, small bloom of red blood soaking through the gauze and staining the black spandex.
Leon’s gaze dropped instantly to my shoulder, and then to my hands flying over the keyboard.
His eyes darkened with a pure, possessive hunger.
He wasn't looking at me like I was a broken victim he had to fix.
He was looking at me like I was a lethal predator he had successfully unleashed.
He liked seeing me bleed for his cause. It was sick, and the fact that I liked that he liked it was even sicker.
"Don't stop," he murmured, his voice rough.
"I'm fine, Leon."
A match hit the screen in a burst of bright red pixels.
I isolated a shell company entirely off the grid and hacked into the municipal server to pull up the architectural blueprints.
I had the exact layout of the rival leader's safehouse in seconds, highlighting the weak points in the reinforced basement walls.
I circled the tactical kill zone on the screen with my digital stylus, my hand rock steady despite the pain in my arm.
"Got you," I breathed, the absolute clarity of the hunt washing over me. "He's at the warehouse on Pier 19."
I stared at the blinking red dot on the digital map.
A heavy, intoxicating realization slammed into my chest. I just bypassed months of federal bureaucracy, endless warrant applications, and spineless committee reviews in ten minutes flat.
The raw, unfiltered efficiency of the underworld was a straight-up drug, and I had just taken a massive hit.
I leaned back in the leather chair, lacing my fingers behind my head, my chest rising and falling quickly as the adrenaline spiked.
I was literally playing God. I just signed a man's death warrant and I didn't even blink.
"It's so simple," I whispered to the monitor. "Why did I ever play by the rules?"
The law was a slow, agonizing death by a thousand paper cuts.
This was faster. This was real. I looked at my hands.
They were the same hands that had typed up hundreds of useless federal reports, but they felt completely different now.
They felt like weapons. I traced the white scar on my knuckles, a souvenir from my academy training that felt like it belonged to a pathetic, naive ghost. I wasn't the girl who wanted to save the world anymore. I was the woman who wanted to run it.
I pulled the safehouse schematics onto the main monitor, but before Leon could read the exact GPS coordinates, my fingers flew across the keyboard in a rapid series of keystrokes.
The screen instantly went black, replaced by a localized, heavy-duty encryption prompt.
I locked the coordinates behind a custom key only I knew.
I turned the monitor slightly away from him, angling my shoulder to block his view.
"Wait," I said, my voice dropping an octave. "I'm not done yet."
The sudden silence from the cooling fans was deafening.
I heard the sharp, slow inhalation of Leon's breath behind me.
The clinical, tactical atmosphere in the room evaporated instantly, replaced by a suffocating, heavy sexual tension that felt like a physical weight pressing down on my chest. If he wanted the prize, he had to pay for it.
I was not his subordinate. I was holding the leash now.
He stepped closer, his large frame casting a dark shadow over me. He rested a heavy hand on the back of my leather chair, the material creaking under the threat of his weight.
"You're playing a dangerous game, Alessia," he warned, his voice a low, lethal vibration. "Unlock it."
He was angry, but he was also completely obsessed. I could see it in the peripheral of my vision, the way his pupils were blown wide and completely swallowed the ice-blue irises.
Without looking away from me, Leon gave a sharp, dismissive flick of his free hand toward the other side of the room.
Sven, who had been lingering near the kitchen island watching the exchange with wide eyes, instantly read the volatile, dangerous energy flooding the space.
He took the hint, turned around, and walked fast. The elevator doors slid shut behind him, sealing us in with a heavy, final thud.
"Out," Leon had barked at the closing doors. "We're finished here for now."
And then it was just us. Total isolation.
The tactical mission took a massive back seat to the twisted, mutual obsession we had been circling for days.
Leon leaned heavily over me, planting both of his large, bruised hands squarely on the armrests of my chair.
He pinned me in completely. His solid chest brushed against my back, the heat of his body seeping through my thin bodysuit.
He stared at the locked black screen, his breathing heavy.
"The code, Alessia," he demanded, his mouth hovering an inch from my ear. "Give it to me."
I didn't flinch. I didn't cower. I deliberately leaned back into his chest, feeling the heavy, aggressive thud of his heart hammering through his silk shirt.
The rough scratch of his stubble grazed my cheek as I tilted my head back until my hair brushed his jawline.
I looked up at him, my dark eyes completely defiant.
"I'm not your agent," I told him calmly, holding his lethal stare. "And I'm not your prisoner. I don't work for free."
His hands tightened on the armrests until the leather groaned in protest. He lowered his face until his lips were a millimeter from the sensitive skin just behind my ear. His voice was a filthy, dark whisper that sent a shockwave of fire straight down my spine.
"What's the cost for a soul, Agent Heller?" he asked, his teeth lightly grazing my skin as he spoke. "Tell me what you want."
He knew exactly what I wanted. He knew I was already gone and I was just waiting for him to finally drag me over the edge. I reached up, wrapping my fingers tightly in the expensive silk of his tie, and pulled his face down an inch closer to mine.
"I want you to make me forget the law," I breathed, my lips practically brushing his jaw. The metallic taste of adrenaline coated my tongue. "Take it all. Everything that's left."
Leon’s eyes went pitch black with pure, unhinged possessiveness. He accepted the terms instantly, the promise of what he was about to do to me radiating off his body in waves of violent heat.
"Done," he growled, his large hand snapping up to grip my jaw, holding me firmly in place. "Now, fulfill your end of the bargain."
I reached out and hit the Enter key with a sharp crack.
The monitor flashed bright white, illuminating the dark room as the exact GPS coordinates loaded onto the screen.
The tactical tension snapped completely, obliterated by a blinding, primal need that stripped away the last shred of my restraint.
I opened my hand and let the heavy metal pen fall.
It hit the marble floor with a sharp clatter, rolling away until it stopped dead against the toe of his boot.