HONEY AND KNIVES

The leak

I made it 6 hours.

6 hours of no calls. No texts. No thinking about Dante with a bullet in his shoulder because of me.

Then my phone lit up at 2:17 AM.

Not from Dante.

From Reyes.

`Conference room. Now. Bring your badge.`

The city was still wet from the rain. The Bureau looked different at night. Quieter. Like it was holding its breath.

Reyes was already there when I walked in. So was Director Hall. And three people from Internal Affairs I’d never seen before.

No one said hello.

Hall slid a tablet across the table. Headline on the screen:

*"FBI AGENT COMPROMISED: ROMANCE WITH CRIME LORD EXPOSES MAJOR BUST"*

Below it: my photo. Badge photo. Hair up. Eyes hard.

And next to me: Dante. Taken at the gala. His hand on my back.

My stomach dropped.

“Where did you get this?” I asked. Voice steady. Barely.

“Twitter,” Reyes said. “Then every news site in the country. Then my mother.”

“Who leaked it?”

“We don’t know,” IA guy #1 said. “But we know who was there. You. De Luca. Vitti. And now half the city knows you were sleeping with the target.”

“I wasn’t—”

“Don’t,” Reyes cut me off. “The photos say otherwise.”

“They were staged. For cover.”

“Cover doesn’t explain this.”

He turned the tablet. Video.

Me. Dante. In the interrogation room.

His forehead on mine. My hand on his wound.

30 seconds. No audio. But it didn’t matter.

Someone was in the room with us. Someone filmed it.

The room went cold.

“You’re suspended,” Hall said. “Effective immediately. Badge and weapon.”

I unclipped both. Set them on the table. My hands didn’t shake. That would come later.

“Where’s De Luca?” I asked.

“In holding. He hasn’t flipped. Yet.” Reyes looked tired. Old. “Zara, did you give him a copy of the ledger?”

“No.”

“Then who did?”

“I don’t know.”

“Then figure it out,” Hall said. “Because in 12 hours, every judge in the city is going to throw out our case. ‘Fruit of the poisonous tree.’ And De Luca walks.”

They let me go. With an escort.

Outside, reporters. Cameras. “Agent Cole! Did you compromise the investigation?”

“Agent Cole! Are you in love with Dante De Luca?”

I kept walking. Didn’t answer.

My apartment was trashed when I got there. Door jimmied. Files gone. Laptop gone.

But on my kitchen table, one thing:

A burner phone.

And a note in handwriting I know too well.

`They’re cleaning house. Get out. Come to me. - D`

The phone buzzed.

`You have 10 minutes before they trace this. Don’t be stupid. Be smart. Be mine. - D`

Damage control.

That’s what he called it.

But this wasn’t damage control anymore.

This was war.

And I was unarmed, suspended, and the most wanted woman in the Bureau.

I picked up the phone.

“Dante.”

“Zara.” His voice was rough. Pain. “Are you hurt?”

“No.”

“Good. There’s a car downstairs. Black SUV. No plates. Get in.”

“And then what?”

“And then we burn whoever did this before they burn us.”

I looked at my badge on the counter.

Then I looked at the door.

Protocol said stay.

Instinct said run.

I chose instinct.

---