Undercover Vows

Elena

"We can't afford even the slightest slip-up on this one. We need you for this mission, Elena."Cole said.

I scoffed, shaking my head."Well, I'm not interested. Find someone else."

"We need someone with a spot on precision and expertise like yours. You're the best forensic accountant we've got. As much as I hate to do this, you have to go-we're out of options at this point."Cole pleaded.

I sat just across Special Agent Cole Dawson with my arms lazily folded across my chest and a facial expression somewhat stuck between non-chalancy yet deep concern.

The dim lights in the FBI briefing room flickered overhead, casting shadows across the dilapidating walls. The air in the room was thick, literally-smelling like stale coffee and junk papers.

Every instinct of my being jumped out at me, warning me to leave the room and never look back.

Yet here I was, in the middle of this back-and-forth conversation with Agent Cole. My legs shivered and my tongue continued to click against my teeth. Thanks to the table that separated me from Cole, he couldn't see how hard I was trying to curb my fear.

I'd been a part of the FBI for slightly over five years but without a doubt, this was my most dangerous mission yet-if I accepted his proposal, that is.

Cole exhaled, sliding a thick file across the table. I hesitated before flipping it open. Pictures in black and white flashed in my face. Men in expensive suits, their faces void of smiles and haircuts that screamed class and elegance were displayed in the photos. I was dead aware of who they were, everyone was.

The D'Angelo family-the city's most feared mafia empire.

"They run one of the biggest crime syndicates throughout the country."Cole continued." Human trafficking, slave trading, drug dealings, illegal gambling, money laundering and what have you. You name it, they've got their hands in it."

As much as I could, I kept my expression neutral but my stomach twisted. Being a part of the FBI, that was the code-even in the face of danger, never let your expression give you away.

"And?"I said, feigning ignorance.

"We finally found a way in." He leaned forward, his blue eyes dazzled with a glimpse of excitement as they locked into mine. Their main casino, the Opal Mirage, has a vacancy for a new accountant, someone to handle their books and keep their operations clean on paper.

I arched a brow as curiosity and a sense of defiance began sprouting within me.

"You want me to go as an undercover accountant, infiltrate a mafia family and hang in there, hoping they don't figure out I'm FBI?"

Cole nodded. "All you need to do is spot the loopholes in their finances-the missing money, the secret deals, the offshore accounts they think are invisible. We need solid proof, undeniable evidence to take them down for good."

I clenched my jaw as my throat suddenly went dry. I knew first-hand how dangerous the crimeworld could be, but taking on the most dreaded mafia family in the country was on a whole new level.

The more I mulled over the excerpts of this mission, the clearer doom spelled out to me.

Cole waited patiently and eagerly for my answer, being well aware of how sensitive this was.

"Well one thing's for sure..."I finally said, clearing my dry throat as I could feel Cole's piercing gaze on me.

"If I do make it out of this mission alive, I'd have set off a whole new record."

Cole let out a subtle laugh but paused abruptly as he met my gaze realizing I wasn't joking – not one bit.

"You won't be alone," Colee said, softer this time. "We'll be watching out. If anything goes south, we'll get you out immediately."

I let out a bitter sarcastic laugh as the sound of my voice filled the briefing room. "That easy, huh?"

His face hardened almost instantly. "You want to make a difference Elena Velasquez, this is your chance. Who knows? Might even be your last." he taunted.

A long silence stretched between us. I thought about the people who had suffered because of the D'Angelos. The lives ruined, the bodies left behind.

I exhaled. "Fine, I'm in."

****

Three weeks later...The Opal Mirage Casino

The casino buzzed with life as it depicted elegance and a fair share of greed. While the men were dressed in lavishly tailored pristine suits, the women were clothed in party dresses and diamond jewelry-ones I couldn't afford even with my life savings.

Slot machines chimed noisily, roulette wheels clicked and voices blended into a steady hum of indulgence and anticipation.

I adjusted the cuff of my blouse, forcing a steady breath.

As I weaved through the main floor, dodging waitresses and balancing trays of expensive liquor, a familiar voice stopped me.

"Well, well, look who decided to grace us with her presence, Miss Romano."

I turned to see Mike, one of the casino's financial clerks, grinning at me over the rim of his coffee cup.

He leaned casually against the bar, his tie slightly loosened, his sleeves rolled up and little bags formed under his eye-the universal sign that someone was having a long night.

He felt all too comfortable addressing me by my fake last name.

Well, shouldn't he? I thought to myself.

"You look sharp, Mike," I said, nodding while my eyes scanned his neatly pressed shirt. "What's the occasion? Finally, get that raise?"

He let out a dramatic sigh, running a hand through his short brown hair. "Not even close. But I did get an extra thirty minutes for lunch today. Guess that counts as a victory in this place."

I smirked. "Small wins, huh?"

"That's all we've got." He took a sip of his coffee, then glanced at me."You clean up nicely. New outfit?"

I glanced down at my tailored blouse and fitted pencil skirt-professional but sleek. It was exactly the kind of look that kept me blending in yet retaining my authenticity.

"Not exactly," I shrugged. "Just trying to look the part."

Mike chuckled. "You're doing just fine, Elena. Take it easy on yourself. No pressure"

"Right," I replied swiftly and with a trace of sarcasm that he didn't quite catch.

His expression softened for a moment like he wanted to say something else, but then a dealer called his name from across the floor.

"Duty calls," he muttered, straightening up. "Try not to work too hard, okay?"

"You too," I said, straightening out my blonde hair instinctively, already turning toward the elevator that would take me to the VIP lounge.

I had been summoned by the underboss in charge of the records.

***

The tension in the VIP lounge was suffocating. The scent of cigar smoke clung to the air, mixing with the stale aroma of whiskey.

I couldn't help but notice the single dim blue light that flickered above, casting long shadows on the velvet walls of the room.

The atmosphere should have felt luxurious and exclusive but to me, it felt like a cloud of lies hanging over my head, just about to rain doom.

Lorenzo Ricci, the D'Angelo underboss paced in front of me. His expression twisted in barely contained rage. The man was a hulking figure tucked in a navy blue suit with dark eyes that burned in blazing suspicion.

He slammed a thick ledger into the glass table between us, the impact making me shudder as I staggered to regain stamina.

"These numbers don't add up, Elena," he agitates, his deep voice cutting through the low murmur of the casino beyond the walls of the room. "Just like that, hundreds of thousands missing. Vanished. Gone without a damn trace."

I kept my hands folded neatly in my lap, my heart pounding in my chest. I had spent weeks carefully crafting my cover as the casino's new accountant. I knew the books inside and out. But now, someone had tampered with the records-and I had no idea who.

"I triple-check every transaction," I said, my voice steady despite the fear curling in my stomach. "There must be a mistake-"

Lorenzo interrupts me, slamming his huge fist onto the table. "Don't insult me! I know a damn mistake when I see one! If there's a leak, it starts with the numbers!"

My pulse pounded. I couldn't afford to appear weak. "Then let me recheck everything," I said firmly. "Give me a few hours, and I'll-"

"You don't have a few hours." Lorenzo leaned down, cutting me off, his face inches from mine. "Either you explain this, or I assume you're the leak."

Panic clawed at my chest. I needed to find a way out of this conversation before I didn't even get to see the end of it.

Before I could respond, the lounge door swung open. Heavy footsteps echoed as Matteo D'Angelo entered, his presence sucking the air from the room.

I had seen him before, of course. Matteo wasn't just the heir to the D'Angelo empire, he was its enforcer.

Dressed in all black, his crisp dress shirt rolled up to his forearms, he looked like he belonged here among criminals and kingpins.

Well, that's because he did! But there was something about him, something sharper, something unreadable in those dark blue eyes.

He wasn't supposed to be here tonight. I knew from my surveillance briefings that he'd been meeting with an arms dealer. A silent, backroom deal with one of their allies, selling military-grade weapons to fund their empire. By my calculations, the meeting should have lasted longer.

So why was he here now?

He barely glanced at me as he walked past, clearly done with his own business for the night. He had other plans I'm sure involved gambling, drinking, and women. But Lorenzo's voice stopped him cold.

"Matteo," Lorenzo called, his tone filled with urgency. "Come see this."

Matteo turned, his eyes narrowing as he took in the tension between us. He walked over slowly, his movements measured, and controlled. When he reached the table, he glanced down at the ledger, and then at me.

"What's this about?" he asked, voice calm but edged with unspeakable danger.

"She's hiding something," Lorenzo spat, jabbing a thick finger in my direction. "The numbers are off. Money's missing."

Matteo's gaze shifted to me, dark and unreadable. "Is that true?"

I forced myself to hold his stare. "I don't know how the records changed. I need time to figure it out."

Lorenzo scoffed. "You expect us to believe that? Money doesn't just disappear, sweetheart."

Matteo exhaled, rubbing his jaw while still in deep thought. He was about to speak, about to make a decision that would seal my fate-then it happened.

The first gunshot rang out.

The window behind us shattered, glass spraying throughout the room. Chaos erupted as more shots followed, the sharp cracks of gunfire alongside panicked screams from the casino floor.

I barely had time to react before Matteo grabbed my wrist and yanked me down, shoving me behind the heavy oak desk as bullets tore through the lounge.

"Stay down!" he barked, reaching for his gun.

Lorenzo was already firing back, shouting orders to his men. But the attackers weren't stopping. More of them flooded through the doors, masked, and heavily armed. A rival family. This wasn't a robbery.

It was a war.

My pulse pounded as I reached for the gun strapped to my thigh, a weapon I wasn't supposed to need so soon. But I wasn't about to die here.

A masked gunman marched toward us, weapon raised. Without thinking, I aimed and fired. The shot hit him straight up in the chest, and he crumpled to the floor.

Matteo turned sharply, his gaze locking onto me in shock.

I could see the calculation in his eyes, the wariness. I had just revealed I wasn't just some helpless accountant.

"Who the hell are you?" he muttered.

I was doomed, alright!