Page 92 of The Bonventi Hitman

"No, we've been trying to make contact, but it's been hard since Luca's death," Agent Harris says.

"Well, it'll be impossible now. She's dead. The Irish killed her."

I hide my shock at how easily that lie comes out.

As they process this, I notice something on Agent Greens' notepad that makes my blood run cold.

"What does this mean?" I demand, pointing. "*Compromised Collateral Asset #225: W. Tannings.* That's Bill's last name."

The agents exchange a loaded glance before Agent Harris sighs. "Anna, there's something you need to know about Bill."

"What?" I ask, dread filling me.

"Bill was a double agent for the Russians," Agent Greens says bluntly. "His plan was to have you captured during the ambush."

"No," I say, my head spinning as I try to process this horrific revelation about my mentor. "That's not possible. Bill would never?—"

"It's true," Agent Harris cuts in. "His real aim that night was to get you in that room and have the Russians capture you."

"However, the Russians went rogue, killed Bill, and planned to kill you to cover their tracks. They didn't plan on Gabriel," Agent Greens says.

"Did you know they were going rogue before the hit or after?"

There is a moment of silence as Agent Greens stares at me.

"You have to understand the bigger operational picture here. It's the fucking mob we're talking about," Agent Greens says.

"Did you know?" I ask firmly, looking directly into his eyes.

"Yes. It was a calculated risk we had to take. Maybe they wouldn't have?—"

"You knew Bill was compromised, you knew they were going rogue with the hit, and you still sent us in? Me in?"

Agent Greens doesn't budge, doesn't move a muscle, but Agent Harris shows shame, spreading his hands in a placating gesture.

Rage and betrayal surge through me. "You used me! You lied to me!"

"We need you to be professional," Agent Greens says coldly. "You're our best chance at taking down these crime families."

"I can't fucking believe this," I blurt out.

My breath starts coming in shaky gasps. My mind is trapped between the treachery of my once-called mentor and the ruthlessness of my current employers. I've never felt more alone.

I have nothing. Even Gabriel would destroy me if he found out who I really am.

I can't breathe. Can't think. "I need air," I gasp, fleeing the room.

Outside, I run down an alley and hide behind a trash can. I bend over and throw up. It's all just too much. I knew I was out of my league, and so did everyone else around me. I was just a pawn.

After a few moments, I make my way back toward the car. I pass a small drugstore and stop.

I need to check.

I walk inside and buy what I need without so much as saying a word to the cashier, an older woman who just gives me a smile.

I walk to the back bathroom and enter a stall.

The next five minutes are a blur, and before I know it, I look down at the stick in my hand and almost fall over.