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“But sir—”
“Enough!” Bell roars, silencing me with a look that could curdle blood. He turns away to grab the radio. “Khalil,” he barks into the receiver, his frustration evident in every syllable. “We need to move on the Ruby Realm tonight. Miller compromised our position.”
There’s a pause before Rish Khalil’s voice crackles through the static, calm but firm. “Bell, we need a warrant first. We can’t just barge in there without cause.”
“Juno Bianchi’s in there,” I say. “She—she threatened me.”
Khalil says, “So? The judge won’t accept hurt feelings as a reason, Miller. We need to make this stick. If this gets thrown out on a technicality—”
“Damn it, Khalil!” Bell growls, slamming his fist on the table. “De Luca’s going to cover her tracks now. We’ve lost our chance!”
I’m only a little bit thankful that his ire is directed at Khalil now, instead of me. I know soon enough it’ll be blasting me again, anyway.
“I understand your frustration, but we have to follow the law,” Khalil insists. “And I’m telling you, it’s not going to happen, not tonight. We’ll get there, but we need to do it the right way.”
I can see the cords in Bell’s neck tighten as he grits his teeth, his fury barely contained. He knows Khalil is right, but it’s clear that he feels the sting of this missed opportunity.
By tomorrow—probably by later tonight—the Ruby Realm will be swept clean of anything incriminating. No evidence of illegal gambling or money laundering or any of the other suspected crimes. Alessa will see to it.
“Fine,” he finally spits out, his voice tense and strained. “We’ll do this by the book.”
He tosses the radio onto the table with a loud clatter, the sound echoing through the van like a gunshot. Then he turns to me, his eyes blazing with a fire I’ve never seen before. “Well that’s just perfect, isn’t it?” His scowl deepens. “Miller, you just torpedoed the entire op. I hope you’re happy with yourself. You better pray we find something else to nail de Luca with. Because if we don’t, your career is over.” He leans over and bangs hard on the panel behind the driver. “Go!” he shouts.
The engine rumbles to life and we pull away from the curb, enveloped in tense silence. In the side mirror, I watch the block fade into the distance. The twenty minute drive back to the FBI warehouse drags on for an eternity. No one speaks a word, not even Bell, who continues to fume across from me. At one point, Evelyn Chang, sitting beside me, offers a small, sympathetic smile before turning her attention back to the dark streets outside the van.
When we finally reach the warehouse, I know what I have to do. It feels like there’s a stone lodged in my throat, but I need to get this off my chest. After we exit the van, I approach Bell cautiously. “Sir, can I talk to you for a minute? In private?”
He gives me a skeptical look but nods, leading me to a secluded corner of the warehouse. “What is it, Miller?” he asks, his voice tight with restrained fury.
At least we’re out of earshot from the others. I know what I need to say, though the words stick in my throat. But it’s now or never. I can’t live with this secret eating away at me.
“There’s something I need to confess.” I take a steadying breath. “When Alessa said I’d…seen her bedroom, she meant…”
Bell’s eyebrows shoot up, but he remains silent, waiting for me to continue.
“Something happened between us.”
“Get to the point, Miller,” Bell snaps, his patience wearing thin.
“We were...intimate, on more than one occasion.” There. I said it. The truth I’ve been hiding from him, from myself even. “I know it was a breach of ethics and I take full responsibility—”
Bell holds up a hand, silencing my rambling. “Youwhat?” he hisses. “You compromised our entire operation for some...some romantic tryst?”
“No, sir!God, no. But I should have told you before now. I know that.”
For a long moment he just looks at me, his expression unreadable. Then, slowly, he shakes his head.
“I’m going to forget you just told me that. And I suggest you do the same.”
I stare at him, certain I misheard. “Sir?”
“You did what you felt you needed to in pursuit of the mission,” he says. “I can’t say I fully approve, but the priority now is containment.”
His meaning sinks in. Containment of the fallout. Mitigation of the damage.
“I doubt we’ll acquire a warrant in time,” he continues, “so your indiscretion is likely a moot point. Your role in the team will be suspended anyway. I’ll be recommending leave with full pay while you recover from your…” He sneers. “Undercover ordeal.”
“But sir,” I protest weakly, “what if she uses this against us? She has no reason to hide it. If her lawyers can make a case for improper—”
