Page 3 of Indigo Deception
"We've been trying to nail the Bellantis for fifteen years," Kaif says, a flicker of something—perhaps anger, I can't tell—crossing her face. "After what happened to my brother, I swore I wouldn't rest until every major crime family faced justice. The Bellantis have been the most untouchable so far, and I'm sick of it."
"Every attempt we've made to infiltrate their organization has failed," she continues. "They're too careful, too connected. But we finally have a way in."
"Through their legitimate businesses," I say, the pieces clicking together.
Kaif nods. "Veronica Reeves, Angelo's mentor from his Wharton days, has flagged potential security breaches in their Asia-Pacific operations. They need outside help—a risk management consultant."
"And that's where I come in."
"You'll be working directly with Angelo Bellanti. Get close. Gain his trust. Plant our surveillance tech. We need access to their financial networks, especially their offshore accounts."
I finally pick up the folder containing my new identity, flipping through the pages. Sarah Bennett, thirty-two. MBA from Northwestern. Risk management specialist with a focus on international finance.Parents died in an accident. Unmarried. No children. Lives alone in a high-rise apartment in Chicago.
"The resemblance is close enough that with a subtle hair color change and contacts, you'll match the ID," Kaif explains. "Our tech team created a digital presence dating back ten years. Blog posts, social media, professional articles—enough to satisfy even the most thorough background check."
I nod, already slipping into Sarah's skin in my mind. She's confident but not showy. Methodical. Efficient. The type of woman who never has a hair out of place. The type of woman Angelo Bellanti would respect professionally but wouldn't look at twice.
Which is perfect.
"And if he makes me?" I ask, though we both know what happens then. I'm not naïve enough to think the Bellantis would let me walk away.
Kaif's lips thin. "That's why you'll have a panic button embedded in your watch. Press it three times in sequence, and we extract you immediately. But remember, Agent Rossi, once you're in, you're on your own. No direct communication with the team. Everything will be relayed through dead drops and encrypted communications."
"I understand."
"Do you?" Kaif's voice hardens. "You'll be alone with people who would kill you without hesitation if they discovered who you really are. The Bellantis aren't just criminals—they're monsters in designerclothing."
I meet her gaze steadily. "My father was an honest accountant who refused to cook the books for the Donati family. I found him with a bullet in his head when I was sixteen. I know exactly what these people are capable of."
Kaif holds my stare for a long moment, then nods, satisfied. "Good. Angelo Bellanti might look like Prince Charming, but underneath that smile is a man who can destroy lives with a keystroke. Don't forget it."
I won't. I've seen what organized crime does to the innocent, and I've spent my entire adult life making sure they pay for it.
"When do I start?" I ask.
"Your interview at Bellanti Holdings is scheduled for tomorrow morning, 9 AM sharp." Kaif hands me a sleek black credit card. "Use this for anything you need. Clothes, accessories—whatever sells the part of a high-end consultant."
I take the card, already mentally cataloging what I'll need. Tailored suits. Understated jewelry. The quiet luxury that speaks of old money and good taste.
"One more thing," Kaif says, and glances toward the door. On cue, it opens, and a tall man with blonde hair enters. His suit is impeccable, but there's something in his eyes that makes a shiver run down my spine. "This is Agent Reyes. He heads the special task force I've assembled."
Reyes doesn't smile as he takes a seat, placing a thick folder between us. "This operation has been compartmentalized to the extreme, Agent Rossi. Every person on this team has been selected based on threecriteria: no ties whatsoever to New York or the East Coast, proven resistance to bribes, and complete anonymity."
"What does that mean, exactly?" I ask, though I have a feeling I already know.
"It means," Kaif interjects, "that every member of this task force is rotated out every three months to prevent corruption. It means that every single one of them—including their families—is under constant protection and surveillance. The Bellantis have eyes and ears everywhere, even within our own agencies."
Reyes nods grimly. "Our office location changes weekly. Even most SEC officials don't know where we operate from. We've had three team members approached with bribes in the last year alone. Two survived assassination attempts."
I swallow hard.
"Most importantly," Kaif says, her voice dropping even lower, "the Bellantis don't have us in their pockets. Not me, not Reyes, not this team."
That's both reassuring and terrifying. If what she's saying is true, the Bellanti influence extends far deeper into law enforcement than I'd imagined.
"Trust no one outside this room," Reyes advises. "Not your old colleagues, not your friends at the Bureau, no one. The moment you walk out that door, you're Sarah Bennett."
I nod and gather the folders, tucking them into my bag. As I stand to leave, Kaif calls my name—my real name.
