I was barely through my apartment door before I powered up my laptop, my fingers flying over the keys as I initiated the secure video link to Agent Morrow. Despite my A-plus performance between the sheets last night, I still couldn’t shake the gnawing worry that my slip-up with Dante at the Palm Beach estate might have jeopardized everything. Something was different about him at the dinner.
The screen flickered to life, revealing Morrow’s grizzled face. His steely gaze seemed to bore right through me, assessing and analyzing with the precision of a man who had seen far too much in his years with the DEA.
“Ramirez,” he greeted me, his voice gruff with the remnants of sleep. “Talk to me. What’s happened?”
I launched into a detailed account of what had happened last night on my date with Dante. As I relayed the story, I fixated on how Dante looked at me, maybe a slight suspicion lurking in his piercing blue eyes.
Morrow listened intently, his face impassive as he absorbed the information. “Getting too close to these people... it’s a risky move, Natalia,” he warned, his tone grave. “You’re playing a dangerous game.”
“I know, sir,” I said, my voice steady despite the knot in my chest. “But I’m confident that I can handle Dante. I’ve got him eating out of the palm of my hand.”
Morrow arched an eyebrow, the ghost of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Natalia, listen to me,” Morrow said, his voice firm. “I understand the importance of gaining Dante’s confidence, using your…assets, but you need to be careful. Dante is not a naive college kid.”
I bit my lip, the gravity of his statement settling over me. “I will, sir. I promise.”
Morrow sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as he considered his next words. “Alright,” he finally said, his gaze locking onto mine. “You’re a fine agent, and I trust your judgment. But you need to be more vigilant. And, no more slip-ups, you hear me?”
“Loud and clear, sir.”
“Good. Tell me what else you’ve learned since the last debriefing, and we’ll strategize how to use that information to our advantage.”
I spent the next twenty minutes detailing everything. Afterward, Morrow leaned back in his chair, a thoughtful expression on his face.
“This is solid work, Natalia,” he said, his tone grudgingly admiring. “But to build a case that’ll stick, we need concrete evidence—names, dates, specific locations of drop points.”
I nodded, my mind spinning with plans and strategies for extracting the information. “I’ll get it, sir. I’ll make sure of it.”
“See that you do,” Morrow said, his eyes hard. “But remember, you pull the plug the instant you feel you’re over your head. No case is worth your life.”
“Understood.”
We ended the call soon after, the screen going dark as I was left alone with my thoughts. The magnitude of my task felt overwhelming at times, but I was determined to see it through.
The following week was a blur of meetings and covert surveillance. I shadowed Dante as he went about his daily business. I stood by his side and watched him charm investors at swanky restaurant openings and broker multi-million-dollar real estate deals in high-rise boardrooms. I saw the respect he commanded from his underlings and the fear he inspired in his rivals.
And each night, when we lay tangled in each other’s arms, I listened intently as he spoke of his plans to legitimize the family business, to transform the cartel into an untouchable empire that would span generations.
It was during one of these late-night confessions that I hit the jackpot.
“We’ve got a shipment coming in tomorrow,” Dante said, his voice filled with satisfaction. “It’s bigger than anything we’ve done before, and it’s going to open many doors for us.”
My heart began to race, the adrenaline coursing through my veins. This was it—the break we had been waiting for. “Oh, yeah?” I said, trying to keep my tone casual. “And what exactly is in this... shipment?”
Dante chuckled, his arms tightening around me. “Let’s just say it’s not Bibles, querida,” he said, his voice a low rumble against my ear. “And it’s going to make us a lot of money.”
I feigned sleepiness, snuggling closer to him as I pressed for more information. “Mmm, sounds dangerous. Are you sure it’s worth the risk?”
“It’s always worth the risk,” he said. “Especially when the payoff is this big.”
We fell silent after that, and I lay there for hours, my mind racing with the implications of Dante’s revelation. If I could alert Morrow in time to intercept the shipment, it could potentially deal a crippling blow to the cartel’s operations and provide invaluable evidence for building our case.
But to do that, I needed to know where and when the exchange would occur. And convincing Dante to share that information with me... well, that would be a challenge.
The opportunity presented itself the following day as Dante and I shared a brunch at an upscale café in the heart of Miami. As we sipped our cocktails and nibbled on our tapas, I casually broached the subject of the shipment, trying to appear only mildly interested in the intricacies of his illicit activities.
“I’ve been thinking about what you said last night,” I began, carefully watching his reaction. “About the big shipment coming in. It must be quite an operation.”
Dante studied me for a moment, his gaze probing yet unreadable. “It is,” he confirmed, his tone guarded. “But it’s not something you need to worry about, mi reina.”