Kill Order Kiss Novel Chapter 11

Kill Order Kiss Novel Chapter 11

Two years passed.

I completed my fellowship, published four papers, and accepted a position at the FBI’s Financial Crimes Enforcement division in Washington, D.C. The girl who once ran from a mobster was now helping to dismantle criminal empires for a living. The irony wasn’t lost on me.

Sofia threw a party when I moved back to the States. My parents flew in from Arizona. Priya came from Chicago. Even Yuki and Oliver crossed the Atlantic, Oliver armed with a suitcase full of homemade scones and a spreadsheet ranking D.C.’s best bakeries.

Standing in Sofia’s apartment, surrounded by the people who’d held me together, I felt something I hadn’t experienced in years: whole.

“To Valentina,” Sofia said, raising her glass, “who turned the worst chapter of her life into a career.”

“To Val!” everyone echoed.

It was a warm evening in September, the kind that makes you believe in fresh starts, when my phone buzzed with a text from an unknown number.

Congratulations on the new position. I always knew you’d change the world. You were always the bravest

person I knew. -D

I stared at it for exactly five seconds.

Then I deleted it and rejoined the party.

But the universe, it seemed, wasn’t done with Dante Moretti.

Three months into my new role, I was assigned to a task force investigating a resurgence of organized crime financial networks on the East Coast. The briefing packet landed on my desk on a Monday morning, and when

I opened it, the first name on the persons-of-interest list made my coffee turn to acid in my stomach.

Dante Moretti. Current head of the Moretti crime family. Status: Active.

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My supervisor, Agent Torres, noticed my expression. “Problem, Serrano?”

“No, sir. Just reviewing the scope.”

“Good. You’re our forensic lead on this. Your Castellano work in London made you the obvious choice. No one

reads dirty money like you do.”

I spent the rest of the day staring at Dante’s file. His photo-recent, surveillance quality-showed a man I

barely recognized Sharper cheekbones, deeper lines around his mouth, eyes that looked like they d forgotten how to sleep Heid aged a decade in two years

The hie detailed his post Castellano trajectory how he’d scrambled to rebuild the Moretti empire, taken increasingly desperate risks, made alliances with dangerous people. The golden boy of organized crime was

tarnishing fast

I should have recused myself. Any ethical guideline, any common sense, demanded it.

Instead, I picked up the file and started reading.