Page 16 of Indigo Deception
"Sarah—"
"This was a mistake." I'm already at the door. "We work together. It's inappropriate."
"Is that really what you're worried about? Professional boundaries?" His voice has that edge again, the one that hints at the darkness beneath the charm.
I can't answer that. Not honestly. So I do what I've been trained to do—I retreat, regroup, reassess.
"Goodnight, Mr. Bellanti."
I don't wait for his response. I walk—not run, because I never lose control, not completely—to the elevator. Inside, I press my fingers to my lips, still burning from his kiss.
What have I done?
—
My apartment is dark when I let myself in, but I don't turn on the lights. I drop my keys, shoes, and my bag at the door.
I immediately go to the bathroom. I flip the switch, wincing at the harsh fluorescent light. The woman in the mirror is a stranger—cheeks flushed, lips slightly swollen, eyes too bright.
"What the hell was that?" I whisper to my reflection.
I grip the edge of the sink, trying to steady myself. This wasn't supposed to happen. I was supposed to plant the bug, gather information, build a case.
Clinical. Detached. Professional. Just as I've always been with all of my jobs.
I wasn't supposed to feel anything when he kissed me except perhaps disgust.
"You're here to destroy him," I remind myself, voice harsh in the quiet bathroom. "So why do you want him to kiss you again?"
My reflection offers no answer, just accusing eyes that know too much.
Maybe he's not as bad as the SEC has painted him. Perhaps there's more to the story. Maybe—
I shake my head sharply, cutting off that dangerous line of thinking. This is exactly what men like Angelo Bellanti do. They charm and disarm and make you doubt what you know to be true.
The evidence doesn't lie. Patterns exist within the transactions, shell companies, and deal timings. The SEC didn't choose me for this assignment on a whim.
I splash cold water on my face, trying to wash away the lingering feeling of his hands, his lips, his warmth.
This is just a job. The penholder is in place. The mission is proceeding.
But as I turn off the light and retreat to my bedroom, I can't shake the feeling that I've crossed a line I never meant to approach, let alone cross.
For the first time since I took this assignment, I'm no longer certain which betrayal I'm more afraid of—the betrayal of my oath to the SEC or my betrayal of the man I was sent to destroy.
7
Gianna
I'vespentmyentirecareer maintaining a distance. Putting up emotional walls keeps me focused.
Professional barriers between myself and the men I investigate.
Until now.
Until him.
My hand trembles slightly as I adjust my blazer while following Angelo through the wrought-iron gates of the Bellanti estate. Not a mansion—an estate. Of course, the Bellantis would settle for nothing less than a family home that belongs in a period drama about old money and older secrets.
