Page 68 of Marked By the Mob

Emma doesn’t answer. She just stares at the screen, her gray-green eyes wide with shock and something that looks like betrayal.

I lean closer, reading over her shoulder. It’s a memo filed by Supervisory Special Agent Daniel Hayes, dated two days after Emma’s disappearance. The subject line reads:Operational Assessment - Special Agent Emma Moore.

The content is brief but damning. Hayes describes Emma as “operationally impulsive” and “prone to taking unnecessary risks without proper authorization.” He recommends that herdisappearance be classified as the result of poor judgment rather than external factors, effectively blaming her for what happened.

The memo became part of the official explanation for why the Bureau closed the investigation so quickly.

Emma’s hands tremble slightly as she scrolls through the document, reading every word. When she finally speaks, her voice is tight with barely controlled fury.

“Hayes sold me out.”

30

EMMA

The laptop screen blurs in front of me, my eyes burning from staring at it for too many hours straight. I blink hard and force myself to focus on the document I just pulled up. Eduard sits beside me at the desk, his shoulder brushing mine as he leans closer to read over my shoulder.

We’ve been at this all night. The sky outside the bedroom windows has shifted from black to gray to the pale gold of early morning, and neither of us has slept. Coffee cups litter the desk surface, some empty, some half-full and forgotten.

But I can’t stop. Not when I’m this close to finding answers.

“There,” I say, pointing at the screen. “Hayes met with the Department of Justice the day before my sting operation.”

Eduard’s gray eyes narrow as he reads the calendar entry I’ve pulled from Hayes’s official schedule. The meeting was marked as routine oversight, nothing that would raise flags. But the timing makes my stomach twist.

“What was discussed?” Eduard asks quietly.

“That’s not in the public record.” I navigate to another database, my fingers flying across the keyboard. “But I can access internal memos if I’m careful.”

I pull up the Bureau’s classified communication logs and start filtering by date and participant. It takes several minutes of searching before I find what I’m looking for. An email chain between Hayes and a DOJ official discussing my undercover operation.

My breath catches as I read.

The DOJ official expresses concern about the auction investigation, calling it “politically sensitive” and “potentially damaging to ongoing federal partnerships.” Hayes responds with careful language, assuring them that the operation will be contained and managed appropriately.

“Contained,” I mutter. “What the fuck does that mean?”

Eduard’s hand goes to my shoulder and he starts slowly massaging the tense muscles there. “Keep reading.”

I scroll through more emails, piecing together a timeline. Two days after my disappearance, Hayes files his operational assessment, blaming me for poor judgment. Three days later, the DOJ sends a memo praising his “decisive leadership during a difficult situation.”

And then, buried in a forwarded message chain, I find it. A rumor circulating through Bureau leadership that Hayes is being considered for a promotion. Deputy Assistant Director of the Organized Crime Division. The position would put him directly under Langford’s authority and give him oversight of multiple task forces. The promotion discussion started the week after my case was officially closed.

“He sabotaged me,” I say, my voice tight with fury. “Hayes knew the operation was risky. He opposed it from the start. And when it went wrong, he used my disappearance to make himself look decisive and competent.”

Eduard is quiet for a moment, his hand still resting against my back. “It fits the pattern.”

“It’s more than a pattern. It’s motive.” I lean back in the chair, my hands shaking slightly. “He didn’t want me investigating the auction because it was politically sensitive. When I pushed forward anyway, he let me walk into a trap. Then he blamed me for it and got a fucking promotion out of the deal.”

The betrayal cuts deeper than I expected. Hayes wasn’t a mentor like Langford, but I respected him. I thought his caution came from experience, not ambition. I thought he opposed the operation because he cared about my safety.

I was wrong.

Eduard’s fingers brush along my spine, grounding me. “We need to verify this before we act on it.”

“I know.” I force myself to breathe, to think like an investigator instead of someone who’s been betrayed. “But the evidence is there. The timeline, motive, and opportunity. Hayes had everything he needed to sell me out.”

We sit in silence for a few minutes, the weight of what I’ve discovered settling over us. Then Eduard stands and moves to the window, looking out over the estate grounds as morning light spreads across the gardens.