𝗔𝗰𝗾𝘂𝗮𝗶𝗻𝘁𝗮𝗻𝗰𝗲𝘀

Fifteen.

Marco massaged the unbearable twinge at the base of his neck. Staring at electronic devices for eight hours straight was no simple task—security footage, timesheets, emails, text messages, Facebook profiles, Instagram stories—hacking and altering every digital crumb connected to his former employee, Frank Costello.

As far as the public was concerned, Frank—a devoted lover of surfing, bonfires, and exotic women—decided to go permanently off-grid and experience life with like-minded nomatic roamers. His final, yet cryptic, Instagram story was composed of a surfer emoji riding a wave from Chicago to Puaena Point alongside an audio clip of the Beach Boys, "Surfin' USA."

A tedious but critical chore Marco resented doing...

Angelo had placed his only son in inexplicably demanding positions, from not being able to pursue a career in cybersecurity to forcibly enduring parts of the family business—Marco craved nothing more than the liberating fictional farewells he composed daily for his father's prey.

Leaning back in his chair, Marco shifted his attention to personal affairs and clicked on a minimized web browser on his desktop screen.

With a hint of curiosity, he whispered to himself, "Let's see who you are," as he revealed six Chrome tabs with search results on CHRISTOPHER CHICO...

After immediately reviewing the club footage from Franks's futile attempt last night, it didn't take long to put two-and-two together; the person Rebecca came for, her boyfriend, was none other than the same pretentious prick who was on tv earlier this morning.

Rebecca's continuous words itched his thought: "I mean, he's a great guy, but there's something missing--it's hard to put into words."

She had declined this prick's marriage proposal for a reason; which only added to the mystery and intrigue surrounding her.

Christopher fucking Chico, the goody-two-shoes Chicago cop, had a family legacy and a social history as vast as his ego. His Xanga, LiveJournal, and ancient Yahoo Geocities sites were surprisingly still up and running. The cringeworthy stuff on there wasn't groundbreaking or remarkable to Marco's sense; after all, it seemed that Mr. Goody-Two-Shoes strictly followed trends.

While browsing responding news clips, Marco stumbled upon a relevant headline that caught his attention:

"Tame The Black Sheep: Superintendent Caruso's daughter, Rebecca, 24, suspended for bribery."

He leaned back in his chair, his eyes widening in shock.

"Fuck me," he muttered under his breath, a mix of surprise and concern flashing across his face.

The realization crashed over Marco with the force of a tidal wave, sweeping away the shores of his assumptions. Breathing became a struggle, each inhale feeling like a laborious effort against the crushing revelation. Rebecca, the woman who had unknowingly captivated him, held a hidden identity beneath the surface—a cop.

As he delved deeper into his investigation, Marco's discovery only deepened the enigma surrounding his recent acquaintance.

She seemed to have intentionally left no trace of her existence beyond that single article in the Tribune. It was as if she had meticulously erased any digital footprint, leaving no social imprint, no hidden cache of information in the dark corners of the web. It was an impressive feat, one that only fueled his admiration.

With a mixture of intrigue and caution, Marco's eyes fixated on the headline photo that accompanied the news article—a snapshot frozen in time from Rebecca's graduation at the police academy, captured five or six years ago. In the picture, her medium brown hair was slicked back, and she had a stern, almost antagonistic expression, likely the result of the photographer's direction, as she didn't seem comfortable.

Last night unfolded a revelation for Marco—a glimpse into a side of Rebecca that touched him on a deeper level. Her kindness, fearlessness, and genuine enjoyment of his company left a profound impression, evoking a sense of delight he hadn't anticipated. This connection felt unique and authentic, in stark contrast to the shallow interests of his past girlfriends who appeared drawn solely to the Montanari name as if it were a trendy accessory to showcase rather than a reflection of his true self.
 

Despite longing for her luminous smile again, he knew it was unlikely to happen, especially not with him. Suspended or not, single or not, she was the daughter of the most hated man in the city, and her connections alone could burn his life to the ground.

"Marco!" The urgency in Eve's voice reverberated through the office, shattering the tranquility that had settled within its walls. With a sudden burst of energy, she barged into the room, her heaving chest struggling for breath.

Startled, Marco's body jolted upright, a surge of adrenaline coursing through his veins. His heart raced, pounding against his chest like a wild animal desperate for freedom.

"What's going on?" he demanded, his voice laced with a mixture of concern and impatience.

Gasping for air, Eve tried to steady herself, her eyes darting with anxiety. She gestured frantically downward, her movements frantic and uncoordinated.

"Angelo and Rebecca. BAR!" She managed to utter between breaths, her voice trembling with trepidation.

Confusion clouded Marco's face as he struggled to comprehend the gravity of the situation. His brows furrowed, trying to align the pieces of the puzzle.

"Now?" he questioned, disbelief tinting his words.

With an emphatic nod, Eve attempted to catch her breath, her fingers trembling as she reached for her inhaler.

Marco swore under his breath, his mind racing with all the possible scenarios that could be playing out downstairs. With a swift motion, Marco pushed aside his chair, the legs scraping against the floor. Determination etched upon his face, he made his way toward the door, his footsteps echoing with a sense of purpose.

Eve, still struggling to regain her composure, followed closely behind, her wheezing gradually subsiding with the aid of her inhaler.

With every step, Marco's thoughts raced ahead, trying to anticipate the tumultuous scene that awaited them. The realm of possibilities expanded before his eyes, each one carrying its own set of risks, challenges, and revelations.

****
****