EMMA

I used to have a handle on life. But somewhere along the way, it broke off.

That was the only thought running through my head as I sat in front of my mirror, staring at my reflection while getting ready for the wedding.

Behind me, Alycia worked her magic with a curling iron, each twist and release of my hair creating a soothing rhythm I clung to like a lifeline. The faint scent of hairspray and perfume mingled with the soft sunlight filtering through the curtains, casting a warm, hazy glow that almost made me forget the tightness in my chest. Almost.

Alycia's fingers moved expertly, shaping my hair into perfect waves I could never manage on my own. "You're going to look amazing," she said, pinning a curl into place with a grin. "And Jake's jaw is definitely going to hit the floor."

I tried to smile, but it felt forced, like I was trying too hard to convince myself she was right. The mention of Jake's name only made the knot in my stomach tighten, stirring something restless inside me.

I told myself it was the wedding. The sheer number of FBI agents that would be swarming the venue. That made sense, right? Being surrounded by people whose entire careers revolved around catching people like me—it wasn't exactly a comforting thought.

But deep down, I knew that wasn't the reason for the tightness in my chest.

Vitale was behind bars. Eric and I had tracked every step of his downfall, from the moment he was dragged out of the airport in cuffs to the charges stacking against him like a house of cards. We had won. Against all odds, our reckless plan had worked.

But instead of relief, I felt... hollow. Like something was missing. Like the victory wasn't enough.

The worst part? The only time that feeling faded was when Jake called me himself, his voice lighter, free of the weight that had settled there since Declan's murder. For the first time, I heard relief in his tone, and only then did the knot in my chest begin to loosen.

We had done something impossible. We had put a monster away. We didn't have to run anymore.

But it wasn't just the success of the mission that brought me comfort—it was knowing that Jake felt better. That he could breathe again.

And that terrified me more than Vitale ever could.

How had this happened? When had he stopped being that FBI agent and simply become... Jake?

And when had his feelings started mattering so much to me?

What the hell was wrong with me?

"Aly..." I mumbled, my eyes still locked on my reflection, as if it held answers I wasn't ready to face. "I think I'm finally losing it."

Alycia met my gaze in the mirror, her hazel eyes filled with knowing amusement. "You're not losing it, Em. It's just nerves. And maybe a little bit of overthinking." She squeezed my shoulder gently. "It's one day. You'll be fine."

"What if I don't want to go?" I grimaced. "What if I just want to take a long bath, listen to Taylor Swift, and drown my nerves with a glass of wine?"

"Well, you better enjoy that while it lasts," a new voice chimed in from the doorway. "Because if you keep this up, you're headed straight for your prison chic era."

Alycia and I both turned to find Eric standing by the door, arms crossed, eyebrows knitted together in disapproval.

"So let me get this straight," he continued. "Instead of cutting ties like any sane person would, you're going to a wedding with him?"

My stomach twisted. "Eric, not now."

"No," he shot back. "This is exactly the time." His gaze burned into mine. "Vitale's locked up. The FBI recovered the painting. The heat is dying down. So why the hell are you still pushing your luck, Emma? You have everything to lose."

A lump formed in my throat as I scrambled for an excuse—something logical, something he'd understand.

"I promised him I'd be there," I said finally. "If I bail now, it'll raise suspicions. And we don't know how the case is going to unfold yet. It's... complicated." I hesitated, then admitted, "Jake's been helpful. I don't want to burn any bridges until I know exactly where we stand."

Eric's expression hardened. "Oh, I see." He exhaled sharply, shaking his head. "You keep playing with fire and act shocked when you get burned." His voice dropped, quieter now, but just as sharp. "You've got the MoMA job lined up, Emma. That's your future. What you always dreamed of. You should be focusing on that."

I shrugged, trying to feign indifference, but even I could hear the wavering in my voice. "I can't just cut him off. Not yet. I need to keep things steady until the dust settles."

Alycia placed a comforting hand on my arm. "Eric has a point, Em. Just think about it. You're so close to having the life you've always wanted."

I turned away, my fingers gripping the vanity table as frustration boiled beneath the surface. They didn't understand.

Every time I thought about walking away from Jake, it felt like ripping out a part of myself I hadn't even realized I was attached to.

The thought of never hearing his voice again, never seeing that crooked smile or listening to his stories—it made my chest ache.

How had it come to this?

I kept telling myself this wasn't real. It couldn't be. That it wasn't Jake I was drawn to, but the idea of him.

Because he saw me as I was now, without the weight of my past. Because with him, I could pretend—just for a little while—that I was someone else. Someone good.

If circumstances were different—if we had met at a different time, in different lives—maybe we could have been something extraordinary.

But reality didn't work like that. The truth was, we were a disaster waiting to happen.

Because at the end of the day, he was the law. And I broke it.

"I'll think about it," I finally managed, forcing the thoughts away. "But right now, I just need to get through this day."

Eric's expression softened, but the concern in his eyes didn't fade. "Just don't forget what's at stake, Emma. You're standing on the edge of something real. Don't let it slip away because of... this."

I sighed, turning back to the mirror. The dress was perfect, the makeup flawless, but inside, I felt like a jumbled mess.

Eric and Alycia were right to worry. They just didn't understand why I couldn't walk away.

Putting on my earrings, I tried to shift the conversation. "So, Eric, since you're free tonight, how about you take Alycia to dinner? She's looking for a place to rent, and you know the city better than anyone. Now that she's got that promotion, she'll be settling here."

I didn't miss the way Eric's head snapped up, his entire posture shifting. His eyes darted to Alycia, lighting up as if she had just handed him the best news of his life.

"Wait—really?" he asked, his voice tinged with something that almost sounded like hope. "You're staying?"

Alycia nodded, her cheeks warming under his gaze.

A slow, knowing smile crept onto my lips. Finally. They were both so obvious, and yet they danced around each other like fools.

Eric, for once at a loss for words, cleared his throat. "Well, in that case, there's this spot with the best shawarma in the city. Let's go."

Alycia beamed. "I'd love that." But then, as if remembering something important, she shot me a wicked grin. "But not before I get a look at Mr. Hot FBI Agent."

Eric rolled his eyes, and I barely held in my laugh. I knew he wanted nothing more than to be miles away from Jake, but watching him squirm was just too much fun.

As if on cue, the doorbell rang.

Alycia all but ran to open the door. Meanwhile, I grabbed my clutch and steeled myself. But before I could step out, Eric moved into my path.

"Be careful." His voice was quiet but firm, but there was something deeper behind it—a warning, a plea.

I nodded, sharing a silent, understanding look with him. Words felt pointless, so I let the moment linger before slipping out of the room, closing the door behind me, keeping Eric and his judgment safely on the other side.

Jake was standing in the doorway, his silhouette sharp against the golden glow of the hallway lights. He was mid-conversation with Alycia, but the moment she said my name, he turned—and whatever words had been forming died on his lips.

For a moment, he just... stared. And I stared back, forgetting to breathe for a moment.

His tuxedo fit him like it had been tailored to perfection, the crisp black fabric highlighting the lean cut of his frame. His usually tousled hair was styled just enough to make him look polished, but still Jake. And for the first time since I had met him, he was clean-shaven, his jawline sharp enough to cut through whatever defenses I had left.

But it was his eyes that got me. They always got me. They looked brighter, more vivid than I had ever seen, almost like they held a secret sparkle meant just for today.

"You look..." His voice was softer than usual. "Incredible."

Something inside me tightened, something I didn't dare name.

"Thank you." I tried to keep my tone light, to ignore the way my pulse had quickened. "Had to make sure I looked good as your plus-one." I offered him a teasing grin. "By the way, you clean up very well, Agent Parker."

The corner of his mouth lifted into a smirk. But there was something else there—something warm, something dangerous.

Saying goodbye to Alycia, we left the penthouse together, the comfortable hum of the elevator filling the silence between us.

But when we reached the parking garage, just as I was about to open the car door, Jake stopped me.

"I've got something for you."

I blinked as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a delicate corsage. Emerald green, perfectly matching my dress.

Understanding clicked into place.

"You asked about what color I was wearing," I murmured, realization settling like a slow tide. I glanced down at my dress, a soft emerald green that moved effortlessly with every step. It was simple and elegant, with thin straps and a backless cut that gave it just enough edge.

Jake rubbed the back of his neck, looking almost shy. "You once told me you never went to prom, so I thought... maybe you could have a little piece of that today."

I stared at the corsage, my chest tightening. It was so simple. A tiny thing, really. And yet, no one had ever thought to do something like this for me. No tricks, no hidden motives—just something genuinely kind.

I swallowed against the lump in my throat. "It's beautiful." And it was. Simple yet elegant, delicately strapped to a bracelet—thoughtful, effortless, just right. It wasn't flashy, wasn't overdone. It was something I could wear all day without a second thought.

His lips quirked. "It's cheesy."

"A little," I admitted, laughing softly. "But also one of the nicest things anyone's ever done for me."

I held out my wrist, heart hammering. "Help me put it on?"

His fingers brushed against my skin as he fastened it, warm and careful. And for a second—just a second—he hesitated, his touch lingering longer than necessary.

The space between us shrank, charged with something we both felt, but neither of us dared to name.

Then, just as quickly, he stepped back.

Jake flashed a smile and gestured toward the car. "Ready?"

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak.

He opened the door for me—because of course he did—and as I slid inside, I found myself smiling.

It was stupid. Reckless.

But for just tonight... maybe I didn't care.

But as we drove toward the wedding, a truth settled deep inside me, one I couldn't keep denying.

I was already losing this battle.