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Sofia’s brow furrowed, her eyes narrowing. “What are you talking about?”

I drew a deep breath, steeling my resolve. “I could turn myself in,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “Become a witness against Dad and the cartel.”

Sofia’s mouth parted in a silent gasp of shock and disbelief.

“You can’t be serious,” she breathed. “Dante, that’s… that’s betrayal. Dad would never forgive you.”

I shrugged, my expression hardening into a mask of determination. “Maybe that’s the point, Sof,” I said, my voice low and resolute. “Maybe it’s time for a change. Teach him a lesson for once.”

TWENTY-SEVEN

NATALIA

The tears burned hot trails down my cheeks as I gripped the steering wheel, my knuckles turning white from the sheer force of my grip. The streets of Miami blurred past in a kaleidoscope of neon lights and honking horns, but I barely registered them.

How could I have been so stupid, so naive? To think that I could convince Sofia to turn against her own family, to betray the bonds of blood and loyalty that ran deeper than any undercover mission. I had played my hand too soon and pushed too hard, and now the consequences threatened to unravel everything I had worked for.

The rational part of my mind tried to cling to the hope that Sofia wouldn’t tell her father a word about this, that she would keep my secret if only to protect her brother. But the doubts swirled like a whirlpool, whispering insidious thoughts that chilled me.

What if she told Dante? What if she revealed the truth about my identity, shattering the delicate web of lies and deception I had so carefully woven?

I had become too invested, too emotionally entangled in this assignment. Dante Reyes was supposed to be a means to an end, a steppingstone on the path to bringing down the cartel that had claimed the life of my partner and so many others. But somewhere along the way, the lines had blurred, and I had allowed myself to become seduced by the promise of something more.

Gritting my teeth, I forced myself to focus on the road ahead. As my apartment building came into view, I felt a surge of relief. The prospect of shedding the persona of Eva Morales and retreating into the safety of my true self offered a glimmer of solace in the darkness.

I barely remembered parking the car, my movements fueled by pure muscle memory as I made my way up the stairs and into the sanctuary of my apartment. The door had barely closed behind me before I was kicking off the high-end heels.

I powered up my laptop by shaking my hands and initiated the secure video link to Morrow. His stern face appeared on the screen.

“Ramirez,” he greeted me. “You look like you have been through hell and back. What happened?”

I willed my voice to remain steady as I recounted the disastrous encounter with Sofia. As the words tumbled from my lips, I felt a strange sense of detachment, as if I were narrating someone else’s story, someone else’s failure.

Morrow’s brow furrowed, his eyes narrowing as he absorbed the implications of my actions. “You went off-book, Natalia,” he admonished, his tone sharp and disapproving. “You know the protocols, the rules. We don’t involve civilians, not unless it’s necessary.”

I flinched at the reprimand, my cheeks burning with shame. “I know, sir,” I said. “I made a mistake, a lapse in judgment. I thought I could turn Sofia and convince her to help us bring Dante in.”

Morrow shook his head. “And now, you’ve put the entire operation at risk. If Sofia tells Dante the truth, if he finds out who you are, or worse, if their father finds out...”

His voice trailed off, the unspoken threat hanging between us. We both knew the consequences, the brutal retribution that would be exacted upon me if Ricardo Reyes discovered my real identity.

“I know,” I whispered, my throat constricting with emotion. “I screwed up, sir. I let my emotions cloud my judgment, and now I’ve jeopardized everything.”

Morrow’s gaze softened, his features etched with concern and resignation. “It’s time to pull the plug, Natalia,” he said, his voice grave. “This operation has gone too far and become too compromised. I’m calling you in.”

The words hit me like a physical blow, stealing the air from my lungs as his decision sank in. “But... sir,” I protested, my voice trembling with desperation. “We’re so close. Suppose I can get Dante to trust me and open up about the cartel’s operations. At least give me one shot. We don’t even know; maybe Dante wants to escape the cartel.”

“It’s too late and risky for that, Ramirez,” Morrow cut me off, his tone leaving no room for argument. “Your cover is blown, and your life is at risk. We can’t afford to lose another agent, not to these bastards.”

I opened my mouth to protest, but the words died on my lips as a strange expression flickered across Morrow’s face. It was fleeting, barely perceptible, but in that moment, I saw something in his eyes that I had never seen before – uncertainty, perhaps even fear.

“Sir?” I ventured, my brow furrowing with concern. “Is everything alright?”

Morrow blinked, his mask of stoic professionalism slipping back into place. “Everything’s fine, Ramirez,” he assured me, his voice firm and steady. “Just focus on getting out of there safely. We’ll debrief once you’re back at headquarters.”

But even as he spoke, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off, that there was more to this decision than he was letting on. Before I could press him further, however, my phone buzzed to life on the table beside me, the screen lighting up with a text from Valentina.

“Urgent! Meet at the usual place in an hour.”