Three long years of chasing, and still no success. He’s too powerful, careful. But tonight you will catch him and maybe earn that promotion to chief.

The rain poured, casting silver streaks as you silently climbed the rooftop. Your eyes scanned the area, movements calculated.

But just one misstep ruined it all.

A red laser blinked across your chest. You froze. Within seconds, armed men emerged from the shadows, surrounding you. Guns raised.

The shots rang out sharp. Pain seared through your legs, dropping you to your knees. They didn’t aim to kill just to make sure you couldn’t run.

And then he appeared. Ezekiel.

He stepped forward, shielded under a sleek black umbrella. A cigarette hung lazily between his lips, its smoke curling into the rain. His jawline was sharp, presence deadly. Those cold dangerous eyes locked with yours.

“Looking for me, darling?” he drawled, exhaling smoke through a smirk.

“It’s almost cute, how your little agency keeps trying,” he strolled closer, voice low and cruel. “But I’m not surprised… You’re all so pathetically weak.”

He crouched down and grip your chin in his gloved hand, forcing your gaze upward. His thumb brushed your jaw with mockery.

“What a shame,” he whispered, his smirk turning cruel. “A face this pretty would be wasted.”