JAKE

The SUV's tires screeched against the asphalt as I raced toward the Metropolitan Correctional Center. I had assured Declan that he would be safe there, that Vitale wouldn't be able to reach him. However, that promise now lay shattered, torn to pieces by the same shank that had pierced through Declan's heart...

I clenched the steering wheel with such force that my knuckles lost their color and my jaw tightened with rage.

Declan's face haunted me, flickering in my mind like a broken projector. Just days ago, he had sat across from me, sipping his lukewarm coffee as we went over our plan with precision. I had promised him that we would nail Vitale and, above all, that he would be safe.

Failure was a vicious beast, gnawing at me with a foul taste of defeat and a pang of broken promises.

Damn it all...

I stared at the prison in the distance, a place where justice should have reigned. But today, it was nothing but a spectacle of chaos and disorder.

I parked the car in a hurry and strode into the prison, where Warden Harris was waiting for me with a grim look on his face.

"Agent Parker." He greeted me with a curt nod. "You should've spared yourself the trouble of coming all the way here. I was going to send you a full report of the incident anyway."

The incident. I shot him a steely glance, my frustration barely contained. "I told you to keep an eye on him, Warden. And he was supposed to be in protective custody, so how the hell did this happen?"

The warden sighed, the nonchalant look on his face faltering. "Well, something went wrong. Fast. We're still piecing it together. But while Declan was in the shower, a huge fight erupted between several inmates, and most of the COs were busy trying to get it under control. During the chaos, we think someone must have slipped in and shanked Declan."

I raised an eyebrow. "You think? What about the CCTV footage?"

Harris winced and looked a bit embarrassed. "The inmates destroyed the cameras facing the shower room."

Huffing, I ran my fingers through my hair. "This is a complete disaster. We had to keep him safe, or at least, we were supposed to," I muttered, my voice laced with unspoken accusation.

The warden was about to say something, but suddenly, someone called out my name from behind, interrupting us. I turned around and saw Agent Liam Hunt from the Violent Crimes Unit. He had just stepped out of the shower room and was in the process of removing his latex gloves.

The Violent Crime Unit handled cases like this, which took place inside the federal prison system. I was relieved that Hunt was in charge of the investigation. This meant I wouldn't have to argue with another agent who would simply toss it aside and treat it like a cold case, even before looking into it. I knew that finding leads in prison was nearly impossible since the inmates never cooperated, but with Hunt on the case, I had hope.

"Hunt," I said as I approached him, extending my hand for a shake. "I'm really glad you're here."

He nodded, shaking my hand. "I dived into Declan's file as soon as we got word of what happened. Since he was your CI, I wanted to look at the scene myself."

He went on, "Well, for an outsider, this looks like a typical prison fight that got out of hand. However, I can already tell that you suspect there's more to it. Am I correct?"

Leaning against the wall, I breathed heavily and asked, "Have you ever heard of Saverio Vitale?"

He seemed lost in thought for a moment before slowly nodding. "Yeah, I remember hearing about him. Actually, he was a person of interest in a case we worked on a while back." He paused, his brows furrowing as if navigating a mental archive. "There was this guy who was murdered mafia-style, so we weren't in charge of the case for long before it got handed over to Organized Crime. But I remember that some leads pointed toward Vitale.

"However, later on, a small-time criminal came forward and confessed to the crime. This person admitted to having worked for Vitale at some point but insisted he had quit long before he did what he did and that Vitale had nothing to do with it."

He shrugged before continuing, "As far as I know, the case was closed, and Vitale walked away from it like a hot knife through butter."

It did not surprise me that Vitale had plenty of guys ready to take the fall for him. After all, he hasn't managed to avoid prison for this long just by luck alone.

"You believe he's behind this?" Hunt asked.

"Declan worked as his personal fence, and he was willing to help us nail him by providing us with evidence and testifying in court. But now he's dead, and we're left with scraps." I sighed. "The entire case was already hanging by a thread, and now that thread is in tatters. And... I failed to protect him."

Hunt gave me a knowing look. "Don't blame yourself. It's not your fault. Things like this happen all the time in our line of work. We just have to navigate through the wreckage and not let it weigh us down."

And navigate through the wreckage, I would. If I was determined before, now I was absolutely hell-bent on bringing everyone involved in this case to justice. I would start with the thief and whoever was helping her, and I wouldn't stop until I had Vitale in handcuffs.

Nonetheless, I found myself with no clear plan, just a "figure it out as we go" approach. And well, there were so many things that needed to be figured out.

If Vitale was behind this, how did he know Declan was working with us?

And why didn't the seller show up?

He had promised Declan he would be there, so what could have possibly held him back? Had something happened to him, or had he somehow gotten tipped off and figured out he was walking into an ambush?

The flow of my thoughts was interrupted when I watched as crime scene workers walked out of the shower room, carefully zipping up a body bag containing Declan's lifeless form.

Feelings of both frustration and guilt blended within me as they carefully maneuvered the body bag out of the building, leaving behind an empty, haunting space and the weight of unanswered questions and broken promises.

"I'll keep looking into this, Parker, and you keep working on your end, and I'm sure something will turn out and we will be able to bring Vitale down."

Hunt's voice snapped me back to reality. I absentmindedly nodded, knowing that I was ready to do whatever it took to knock Vitale off his pedestal and bring him down once and for all.

***

Bringing my car to a stop, I let out a sigh and gazed at the imposing building before me. Its gray exterior and tinted windows were a perfect cover for the secrets and illicit activities that lurked inside.

I knew I was breaking protocol by being here, but my gut instinct urged me to seek answers, anything that could stir things up a bit.

Before stepping out of the car, I quickly texted Luke, informing him of my whereabouts, just in case. I didn't care how foolish he might think my actions were at that moment. That was a problem for later.

Walking into the building, I flashed my badge at the security and took the elevator to Vitale's office.

The reception area was polished, the air thick with the scent of expensive cologne. The receptionist, a woman with meticulously manicured nails and an air of disinterest, barely glanced up as I approached the sleek desk.

"I'm here to see Mr. Vitale," I said, keeping my tone firm.

Without lifting her eyes from her computer screen, she replied, "Mr. Vitale is busy and doesn't see anyone without prior notice. You'll need to schedule an appointment."

Unfazed, I pulled out my badge and slapped it at her desk, grabbing her attention. "This is official business, and I need to speak with Mr. Vitale. Now."

The receptionist finally looked up, her gaze meeting mine with an icy nonchalance. "I don't care if you're the President. Mr. Vitale doesn't like to be disturbed. You can leave your contact information, and we'll get back to you."

Squinting my eyes, I leaned in. "Listen carefully. This isn't a request. Tell Vitale that Agent Parker needs a few minutes of his time, and it's in his best interest to grant it."

The receptionist's disinterest wavered for a moment, replaced by a flicker of irritation. She sighed and picked up the phone to inform Vitale of the unexpected visitor.

"You can go in. He's not happy about it, though," she finally said.

Oh, I bet.

Moments later, I found himself ushered into Vitale's lavish office.

Mahogany furniture adorned with intricate carvings filled the room, and the air carried the scent of aged leather. The walls, decorated with an array of vintage paintings and antique sculptures, whispered the tales of a man with very expensive tastes.

Vitale himself, a middle-aged man with salt-and-pepper hair, sat behind a massive desk. His tailored suit spoke of wealth, and his piercing eyes conveyed a sense of both controlled power and danger.

As I entered the office, Vitale greeted me with a nod and a smug smirk that I desperately wanted to wipe off his face.

"Agent Parker, what brings the FBI to my humble workplace?"

I brushed off his comment and settled into the chair opposite the desk.

"Well, you've really got a beautiful place here, Mr. Vitale. It shows your great taste for the finer things in life."

Vitale's smirk widened, his fingers dancing across the surface of a crystal paperweight. "I believe in surrounding myself with beauty, Agent Parker. Art, like business, is about acquisition and appreciation."

"Speaking of acquisition, I hear you're quite the art enthusiast. Rumor has it you've recently acquired a rather notable piece."

Vitale's eyes flickered for a moment, a subtle reaction that didn't escape my notice.

"I invest in many things, Agent. Art is just one of my passions."

"A passion that sometimes involves acquiring paintings of questionable origin, perhaps?"

Vitale chuckled, lifting a whisky glass and giving it a gentle swirl. "You've got a vivid imagination, Agent. Accusing a man of my stature without proof can be a dangerous game."

"Oh, I can assure you that I'm not here to play games, Vitale. We both know you're knee-deep in all sorts of illegal activities—money laundering, trafficking, maybe even murder."

Vitale placed the whiskey glass on his desk, causing a thud that echoed through the room. He leaned in, giving me a stern look. "Agent Parker, I am a legitimate businessman. Your theories are amusing, but without evidence, they're just that—theories."

"Is that so?" I arched an eyebrow. "Maybe you'd change your tune if this place were subject to a thorough search. But I'm not here for that, not yet."

Vitale's gaze hardened. "Then why are you here, Agent? Fishing for clues? Trying to intimidate me? I suggest you tread carefully."

"I don't make threats, Vitale. I make promises," I replied, locking eyes with him, my stare as unwavering as his. "Yet, there's a nagging question that's been bothering me, and I thought you might have the answer.

"We managed to capture one of your associates, who was ready to reveal the truth and expose your true nature. But fate had other plans. He was killed. Quite a convenient turn of events for you, don't you think?"

Vitale narrowed his eyes at me, and I could have sworn I caught a glimpse of a smile on his face. That alone confirmed my suspicion that he was behind Declan's death.

"So, let me get this straight. You've got nothing but the word of a dead criminal." He scoffed. "And here I was, expecting the FBI to be more professional than that."

He laughed at his own comment and leaned back in his chair.

"Well, Agent Parker, as much as I enjoy a good work of fiction, you've already wasted enough of my valuable time with your baseless accusations," he sneered. "The next time you come waltzing into my office, you better have a warrant in hand. You see, I don't entertain fishing expeditions, especially from the likes of the FBI."

I smiled, knowing that I had managed to get under his skin. "Well, of course, I wouldn't dream of preventing you from tending to your important affairs." I stood up but lingered for just a moment. "But before I leave, I want you to remember something, Vitale. The truth has a way of catching up, even in places you think are untouchable. I'll be seeing you."

With that, I spun around and walked out of the office, leaving Vitale to contemplate the weight of my words.

***

When the elevator door slid open, I cautiously stepped out into the bustling office. It was as if the gravity of my recent actions had just crashed down upon me, leaving me momentarily breathless.

As I made my way toward my desk, I caught sight of Special Agent Michael Ashford watching me from his office. The stern expression on my boss's face made my stomach tighten.

He knows.

Suddenly, my boss walked out of his office, his demeanor commanding and purposeful. With a subtle gesture, he motioned for me to join him there before walking back inside.

Oh boy, here we go.

I walked up the short flight of stairs to Ashford's office, each step feeling like a reluctant march to the guillotine.

Today's actions were undoubtedly uncharacteristic of me. I always prided myself on being a by-the-book agent, acknowledging that my strength lay in my adherence to the rules, in playing the game as it was meant to be played. It was the only way to ensure that the lowlifes we pursued could never hold anything against me. Today, however, I had decided to take a detour from the usual route and ventured into unfamiliar territory.

Damn this case and what it was doing to me.

As I reached the door, I took a deep breath before walking in.

Ashford didn't wait for me to sit. "What were you thinking, Parker? Going to meet Vitale without any tangible evidence linking him to the case? You do realize he can file a harassment complaint against you now, and there's nothing we can do to stop him. If that happens, I'll have no choice but to remove you from this case."

I did know that. And now, I couldn't come up with a single good reason why I had gone to see him. What was I expecting? That he would crack under pressure and confess everything to me?

Well, maybe I did it because I wanted to confirm that Vitale was truly the mastermind behind it all. Perhaps to serve as motivation for me to work twice as hard to bring him down.

"I know what I did was wrong, sir, but..." I paused, choosing my next words carefully. "But I thought there was a chance that I could shake something loose, get a reaction. Maybe startle him into making a mistake."

"You thought?" Ashford raised an eyebrow. "I had no idea we acted on a whim, as if there were no rules, Parker. Besides, Vitale is a damn mastermind. A simple meeting is never going to shake him. What we need is concrete evidence in order to finally bring his pompous ass down."

"But sir, we've been chasing shadows for months, and now we've lost our only witness. I felt I needed to take a more direct approach."

Ashford leaned forward, his tone firm. "This isn't a one-man show, Parker. You can't just throw protocol out the window because you think you can read a suspect. You have no evidence yet, just suspicions. And this case is not just about you and your hunches."

He then sighed and rubbed his balm across his face. "Jake, I know you're one of my best agents, but this case is becoming too personal for you. You're losing sight of the bigger picture. It's time to take a step back, rewind, and reevaluate. We have rules for a reason, and you can't let your emotions cloud your judgment."

I nodded, recognizing the truth in his words. "I understand, sir. It won't happen again."

Ashford leaned back in his chair. "It better not. We're dealing with both slippery and dangerous people. We need to be smarter, not more impulsive. Now, go take some time to clear your head. We'll regroup on this case, and you need to get back on track and figure out a plan that doesn't involve going rogue."

With that, I walked out of his office with my tail between my legs. It was clear to me that I needed to up my game. If life were a game of chess, this impulsive move would have cost me dearly, and there were no do-overs.

I needed to regroup, reassess everything, and figure out what I was missing.

As I descended the stairs, I noticed Luke hurrying toward me. To say that I was angry with him would be an understatement, and it was apparently evident on my face as he raised his hand to offer an explanation.

"First off, I'm not going to apologize," he began, but his expression said otherwise, as he seemed genuinely sorry. "What you did was incredibly foolish. I had no choice but to inform him. In fact, I was giving you an extra thirty minutes. If you hadn't shown up, I was prepared to call for backup and come to your rescue."

I decided to cut him some slack because I knew I was the one who messed up. Plus, I had a feeling that he would inform Ashford before I even sent him the message. His military background taught him to always follow the rules and not defy the chain of command.

"I'm not mad, Luke. I know you did the right thing," I said, slumping in my chair.

Luke's face relaxed, and he grabbed a chair and sat across from me at my desk. "How much trouble are you in?"

I sighed. "Well, I guess I'm treading on thin ice with Ashford right now. But officially, I'm off the hook. He just said I need to step back and figure out a way out of this mess."

"Well, he's not wrong," Luke replied. "This case is really getting to you, and you look like hell."

I didn't have a clever comeback to that. Not only did I truly look like hell, but I also felt like it.

"You really need to loosen up a bit," Luke continued. "I can't have my best man looking like a zombie at the wedding. And have you thought about who you're going to bring as your plus one?"

I knew Luke was trying to shift the conversation to a lighter topic to cheer me up, but it only made me more nervous.

"You haven't." He sighed, shaking his head in disappointment.

Well, I was clearly an open book today.

"What about the girl you've been seeing? Last time you told me about her, hearts were popping out of your eyes."

"I'm not officially seeing her," I corrected. "We're just friends."

"Right." He rolled his eyes. "Well, I don't care. You better ask her to come with you, or I'll tell Chloe to set you up with one of her friends."

I narrowed my eyes at him. "Do that, and I'll cancel all the reservations I made for your bachelor party."

With everything going on, I hadn't actually made any reservations yet, but he didn't need to know that.

His face lit up. "What reservations?"

I smirked. "Guess you'll never know."

"Screw you, Parker," he said, standing up. "Sort this out, or I won't be able to stop Chloe. I warned you."

With that, he walked back to his desk, and I let out a frustrated sigh.

I had been planning to ask Emma to accompany me to the wedding. I had a nice date in mind, where I would ask her. However, after my failed attempt to catch the seller and chaos breaking loose, I didn't even have a chance to send her a message.

Besides, I wasn't sure if she would even agree.

Every time I thought about her, the ambiguity of our connection left me grappling with endless questions. Were we truly just friends or something more?

Whenever these doubts filled my mind, I reflected on our shared moments. The way her laughter rippled through the room, the electric spark in her eyes that mirrored my own when our gazes locked, and the way her mere presence seemed to dissolve the weight of my worries.

And maybe I couldn't quite pinpoint where we stood, but one thing was crystal clear—I really wanted her by my side at the wedding.