Deadly Devotion

Chapter Ten: Aftermath

I didn't sleep that night.

I sat in my apartment, staring at my phone, waiting for it to ring. Waiting for Chen to tell me the raids were happening anyway. Waiting for news that the DeLuca family had been arrested despite everything.

Waiting for a message from Dante that never came.

By morning, I had nothing. No calls. No texts. Just silence.

I went to the field office at eight. Director Morrison was waiting in Chen's office.

"Sit down, Agent Santos," he said.

I sat.

"The DeLuca family moved everything last night. Every business, every account, every piece of evidence you identified. Gone. Cleaned out. Relocated." His voice was ice cold. "We raided six locations this morning. Found nothing. Not a single piece of incriminating evidence."

My stomach dropped. "They moved that fast?"

"They had help. Inside connections. People who warned them. And they had motivation. Thanks to you, they knew exactly what we were looking for."

"I didn't tell them anything about the evidence."

"You didn't have to. Your presence told them enough. An FBI agent gets close to the heir? Of course they'd assume you found something worth protecting."

He pulled out a folder. My personnel file.

"I'm recommending your termination. Effective immediately. You compromised an ongoing investigation. You became emotionally involved with a target. You failed to maintain professional boundaries. Any one of those would be grounds for dismissal. All three together? You're done."

I'd expected it. But hearing it still felt like a punch to the gut.

"I understand."

"Do you? Do you understand that your actions let a criminal organization escape justice? That the people responsible for Agent Costa's death are going to walk free because you couldn't do your job?"

Brian. They were using Brian against me again.

"I know what I did."

"Then you also know there will be an internal investigation. Your conduct will be reviewed. It's possible you'll face criminal charges. Obstruction. Aiding and abetting. We'll see what the review board decides."

He stood up. "Badge and gun. Now."

I pulled them out. Set them on the desk. Seven years with the Bureau. Gone in a moment.

"You're a disgrace to this organization," Morrison said. "Get out of my sight."

I left the field office for the last time. No badge. No gun. No career.

Just the weight of everything I'd destroyed.

For three days, I stayed in my apartment. Ignored calls from my parents. From Madison. From everyone.

I just sat in the dark and replayed everything in my mind.

The moment I met Dante at the gallery. The first kiss. The first time we made love. Him saying he loved me. Him asking me to move in.

The look on his face when Marco showed him the photos.

The emptiness in his eyes when he told me to leave.

On the fourth day, someone knocked on my door.

I ignored it.

They knocked again. Harder.

"Mia, I know you're in there. Open the door."

Madison.

I opened the door. She took one look at me and her expression shifted from concerned to horrified.

"Oh honey. What happened?"

I hadn't looked in a mirror in days. I could only imagine what I looked like.

She came in, closed the door behind her. Pulled me into a hug.

That's when I finally broke down. Completely. Sobbing into her shoulder while she held me and didn't ask questions.

When I could breathe again, when the tears finally stopped, she sat me on the couch.

"Talk to me. What's going on?"

I told her everything. Not the classified details. But the broad strokes. That I'd been undercover. That I'd fallen in love with my target. That it had all fallen apart.

"I'm so sorry," she said quietly when I finished. "That's... god, Mia. That's awful."

"I ruined everything. My career. The investigation. Him."

"Did you love him? For real?"

"Yes. I still do. Which makes it worse."

"Have you talked to him since?"

"He told me to leave and never come back. I don't think there's anything to talk about."

"Maybe he just needs time. To process. To cool down."

"Madison, I lied to him about everything. I slept with him while gathering evidence to destroy his family. There's no coming back from that."

"People forgive worse things."

"Not people like Dante. Not when it comes to betrayal." I looked at my hands. "His world is built on loyalty. And I'm the person who proved that you can't trust anyone."

My phone buzzed. Unknown number. Again.

I picked it up.

Unknown: You wanted the truth? Here it is. The evidence you gathered? Worthless. The raids? Found nothing. Your dead partner? Still dead. And me? I'm still free. Still running my family. Still living my life. You sacrificed everything for nothing. Hope it was worth it.

The cruelty in the words made my hands shake.

Madison read over my shoulder. "Is that him?"

"I think so."

"He's hurting. Lashing out."

"He's telling the truth. I gave up everything and accomplished nothing. Brian is still dead. The DeLucas are still operating. And I'm..." I swallowed hard. "I'm just alone."

A week after everything fell apart, I got a call from an unknown number. Different from the ones Dante had been texting from.

I almost didn't answer. But something made me pick up.

"Hello?"

"Mia Santos." A woman's voice. Familiar. "This is Isabella DeLuca."

My blood went cold. "Mrs. DeLuca."

"I think we need to talk. Woman to woman. There's a cafe on the corner of Fifth and Twenty-Third. Meet me there in an hour."

"I don't think that's a good idea."

"I wasn't asking. One hour. Don't be late."

She hung up.

This was dangerous. Stupid. I shouldn't go.

But I went anyway.

Isabella was already there when I arrived. Sitting at a corner table, looking elegant and composed. Like she hadn't just spent the last week watching her family's world nearly collapse.

I sat across from her.

"Thank you for coming," she said.

"Did I have a choice?"

"There's always a choice. You made several. That's why we're here." She studied me. "You look terrible."

"I've had a bad week."

"So has my son. He's barely eating. Barely sleeping. Working twenty hour days trying to fix what you broke."

The guilt twisted deeper.

"I'm sorry."

"Are you? Or are you just sorry you got caught?"

"Both. Neither. I don't know anymore." I met her eyes. "I never meant to hurt him."

"But you did. Intentionally. Systematically. You set out to seduce my son and destroy my family. Don't pretend it was an accident."

"At first, yes. That was the plan. But then I fell in love with him. That part wasn't planned. That part was real."

"Love." She said the word like it tasted bitter. "You expect me to believe you love him after what you did?"

"I don't expect you to believe anything. But it's true. I love him. I'm in love with him. And I hate myself for what I did to him."

Isabella was quiet for a long moment. "He loved you too. Really loved you. I've never seen him like that with anyone. Open. Happy. Talking about the future like it was something real."

"I know."

"And then you ripped it all away. Do you have any idea what that did to him?"

"I can imagine."

"No. You can't." Her voice was hard. "My son doesn't trust easily. He's been burned before. Used. But with you, he let his guard down completely. And you used that. Used his love against him."

"I didn't mean to."

"Intentions don't matter. Results do. And the result is that my son is destroyed. Broken in a way I've never seen him broken before." She leaned forward. "So tell me, Mia Santos. What do you want? Why did you come here?"

"You called me. I didn't ask for this meeting."

"I called because I needed to see you. To look you in the eye and see if what Dante said was true. That you actually loved him."

"And?"

She studied me for a long moment. "I think you do. I think you love him and you hate yourself for what you did. I think you're drowning in guilt and regret." Her expression softened slightly. "But that doesn't change anything. You still betrayed him. You still hurt him. And there's no coming back from that."

"I know."

"Do you want to?"

"What?"

"Come back. To him. Is that what you want?"

I looked at her. At this woman who'd welcomed me into her home. Who'd hugged me. Who'd believed I was genuine.

"More than anything," I whispered. "But I know it's impossible."

"Nothing is impossible. Just very, very difficult." She pulled something from her purse. An envelope. Slid it across the table.

"What's this?"

"Information. About what my family did after you left. Where we moved things. How we restructured. Everything your FBI friends would want to know."

I stared at the envelope. "Why would you give me this?"

"Because my son is killing himself trying to clean up this mess. Working day and night. Making decisions that are going to haunt him. Compromising things he didn't want to compromise. All because of the chaos you created."

"And this helps how?"

"It gives you leverage. A way to finish what you started. To get justice for your dead partner. To salvage something from this disaster." She paused. "And maybe, if you're smart about it, a way back to my son."

"I don't understand."

"Dante is angry. Hurt. Betrayed. But underneath all that, he still loves you. I can see it. The way he refuses to talk about you. The way he destroys anything that reminds him of you. That's not indifference. That's pain."

"That doesn't mean he'd forgive me."

"No. But it means there's a chance. A small one. If you can prove that you're not just the woman who betrayed him. That you're also the woman who loved him enough to finish what you started. Properly. Honorably."

"By turning in your family?"

"By being honest. About everything. About who you are and what you did and why." She stood up. "My son deserves the whole truth. Not just the parts you wanted him to know. Give him that. And maybe, eventually, he'll find a way to forgive you."

She walked out, leaving the envelope on the table.

I stared at it for a long time.

This was it. The evidence I needed to rebuild the case. To bring down the DeLuca family. To get justice for Brian.

All I had to do was betray Dante one more time.

I took the envelope home. Opened it.

Inside were documents. Detailed records of where the family had moved their operations. New shell companies. New accounts. New contacts.

Everything the FBI would need to start fresh.

And a handwritten note from Isabella.

The truth will set you free. Or it will destroy you. Either way, you owe him honesty.

I sat with the documents spread around me and thought about choices.

I could give this to the FBI. Rebuild the case. Watch Dante get arrested.

Or I could destroy it. Let the DeLucas escape. Protect the man I loved.

There was no good choice. No path that didn't end in someone getting hurt.

But Isabella was right about one thing.

Dante deserved the truth. All of it.

I picked up my phone and typed a message to the only number I had for him.

Me: I need to see you. One more time. To explain everything. To give you the whole truth. Please.

I didn't expect a response.

But an hour later, my phone buzzed.

Dante: The cottage. Tomorrow. Noon. Come alone.

The cottage. Where he'd told me he loved me. Where we'd been happy.

Where everything had been real, even if it was built on lies.

I typed back.

Me: I'll be there.

Tomorrow, I'd tell him everything. The truth about the investigation. The truth about Brian. The truth about why I'd done what I'd done.

And the truth about how completely and utterly I'd fallen in love with him.

What he did with that truth was up to him.

But at least I'd be honest. Finally. Completely.

Even if honesty destroyed us both.