The Enemy You Touched
722 Words
Cassandra stared at him across the police perimeter, her pulse a steady drumbeat of disbelief.
Adrian Moretti.
Not a stranger. Not a fling. Not a mistake she could walk away from.
He was the next name on the FBI’s hit list. And she’d let him inside her in more ways than one.
"Agent Blake," said Detective Ruiz beside her, glancing between her and Adrian. "You two know each other?"
Her voice came out even, practiced. "We’ve met."
Adrian’s gaze locked onto hers with amused challenge. "Briefly."
Cassie turned away before her expression cracked, marching toward the makeshift FBI command post on the property lawn. She didn’t breathe again until the tent flap zipped shut behind her.
Her team was already assembled, huddled around monitors and photos. Romano’s body sprawled across every screen, gunshots to the chest, professional kill, no signs of a struggle. Classic mob execution.
Her supervisor, Special Agent in Charge David Temple, looked up with a frown. "We need a miracle. And you’re it, Agent Blake."
She blinked. "Sir?"
Temple crossed his arms. "We’ve been trying to get a mole into the Moretti family for years. Suddenly, you’ve got a personal connection to Adrian Moretti. Use it."
Her stomach dropped. "You want me to get close to him?"
"He doesn’t know who you are. That’s leverage. Play it right, you could bring us their entire operation."
Play it right? She had played it wrong. Very, very wrong.
"I don’t think..." she startled.
"I’m not asking!" Temple’s tone brooked no argument. "Do what you have to. Get close. Get him talking. We’ve got eyes on his penthouse. If you can get back in, even better."
Cassie felt her ears burn with shame. If they only knew how deep she’d already gone.
Adrian’s voice found her again later that afternoon.
“Agent Blake.”
She turned, spine rigid. He was alone now, standing near the fountain where Romano had bled out, his dark suit immaculate. He looked like sin wrapped in silk.
“You’re trespassing,” she said coolly.
He stepped closer. “So that’s what this is. You’re an agent. A fed.” He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Was that before or after you let me taste every inch of you?”
Her jaw clenched. “Don’t test me.”
“Too late.”
The air between them crackled with something dangerous, heat wrapped in threat, tension stitched with memory. She remembered the way his hands had felt, the way his mouth had drawn sounds from her she’d never made before.
She swallowed hard. "If you think you can intimidate me..."
“Oh, sweetheart.” He laughed low. “I’m not trying to intimidate you. I’m trying to figure out why the hell an FBI agent let me touch her like that without even blinking.”
“I didn’t know who you were,” she snapped.
“And now you do,” he said softly, stepping close enough that she could smell his cologne. “Does it make you want me less?”
She didn’t answer.
His voice dropped to a whisper. “Did you fake it, Cassie?”
She could barely breathe. “That night was a mistake.”
“Maybe. But it didn’t feel like one.”
She spun and walked away before she did something stupid again.
That night, she couldn’t sleep.
She lay in bed with her fingers curled in the sheets, eyes fixed on the ceiling. Adrian’s voice echoed in her mind. The heat of his body. The way her own had betrayed her when he got too close.
She’d built a career on self-control. Precision. But he had unraveled her in a single night.
And now she had to use that night to destroy him.
Or worse, she’d lose herself in him all over again.
The next morning, a package arrived at her apartment. No return label. Just her name, written in a familiar hand.
Inside was a bottle of vintage red wine.
A single black silk necktie.
And a note.
"You left something behind. I kept it warm for you. -A"
Cassie stared at the note, fury and heat battling inside her.
This wasn’t just a game. It was a warning. A dare.
Adrian Moretti was calling her bluff.
And she wasn’t sure how long she could keep it up.
- Writer
