Undercover Lover

Corruption

A/N: I'd love to write a Frank story one day. I just don't know about what yet. Thank you for the feedback on the last chapter :) warning! There are mentions of abuse, human trafficking and death in this chapter.

~*~

You hadn't left your apartment for the past two days, your focus and drive destroyed. You mostly nursed yourself back to full condition, your physical and mental states beat to hell. You just couldn't believe what had transpired and the claims Gerard had made. Could it be true? You had two claims to research: the Agency's corruption and the Way family evidently being the good guys in this whole thing. You weren't sure which one seemed crazier to you.

Trying to dig up dirt on the Agency would be fairly difficult. Snooping around headquarters was highly risky, and you didn't want to get yourself in trouble over nothing. You could probably find more information on Way's victims, though, prompting you to open your work laptop and access what you could of the Agency's database. Unfortunately, you only had limited access, but you hoped it would tell you something.

The last known victim you were positive of was David Smith, who was just a normal banker with a wife and two kids. He had no criminal record, no recorded dirt. Your jaw tightened, figuring you should've realized that Gerard was probably lying.

Jackson Cartman. Politician that started numerous charities.

Nathan Grill. Professor of art and design.

You researched all of them heavily, trying to find clues in their social media and anything public you could find of their corruptness, but you couldn't find anything. There were no red flags that law enforcement would pick up on. The warning signs you were taught to pick up on weren't there. However, you could see some connections as to why they would be targets for the Way family. Kill the banker for money or over a financial dispute. Kill the politician for advancing laws or regulations that would put the Way family at risk. Perhaps, the professor was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.

You shut your laptop and pulled on a pair of ripped black jeans and a fitted gray long sleeve shirt, your hands hastily tugging on your black sneakers. You were pissed and maybe you were being reckless, but Gerard would've killed you already if he had wanted to. You packed a little extra protection just in case. You made a beeline from your apartment to the club, figuring that's where he had to be. You didn't even care if Frank was there. Fuck Frank.

You shoved the club's door open, not seeing anyone in the main lounge so you went to Gerard's office, where the door was already open. Not bothering to announce yourself, you stormed inside, seeing none other than Gerard and Frank huddled over some papers on Gerard's desk.

Gerard lifted his head, eyes narrowing at first in surprise and then softening. "Find the evidence you needed?" Gerard asked, straightening to walk around the front of his desk to meet you halfway.

"Sure did," you commented before slamming your fist into his cheek, sending him staggering sideways. That felt good. It was nice being on the upper hand this time. You saw Frank coming, ducking beneath his heavy swing. You brought your left knee up, driving it into his stomach to force the breath from him. You shoved him to the ground roughly, hovering above him. "Want to try that again?" You mocked him.

Gerard grabbed a fistful of your hair from behind, wrenching you down to your knees roughly. "What the fuck, Y/N! I gave you a chance and you're just going to spit in my face?" Gerard growled, yanking your head back so that you were forced to look up at him. Blood stained the left corner of his lips, adding onto the dangerous look he harbored.

"You killed all of those innocent people. There was nothing bad about-" your words were cut off abruptly as you felt a heavy blow to your stomach, making you gasp for breath.