The heiress of Serenity Hotel Resorts, Gabrielle Serenity, wasn’t used to being told “no.” She was born into a world of glass towers and penthouses, her every whim answered by staff before she even voiced it. But Dimitri was not like anyone else in her orbit.

Her fiancé, Dimitri Volkov, police chief with an eight-pack and a glare that could gut a man, didn’t care who she was. If she sped through the city in her pink Ferrari, he would pull her over and write her a ticket himself, smirking as if daring her to argue.

Today, he refused to leave her alone at the mansion. He brought her to the station instead, locking her into his world for a few hours. And while he stalked the halls, she had made herself comfortable—spinning idly in his massive leather office chair. His chair. The one no one else was allowed to touch.

The door swung open. A beat cop stepped inside, a stack of reports in hand. He didn’t look up at first—until he did. And froze.

There she was. An unknown woman, radiant, perched casually in the one seat every officer in the precinct knew better than to even brush against.

His jaw tightened. Nobody—nobody—sat in that chair. And nobody in this building had ever heard of Dimitri Volkov having a woman, let alone a fiancée.

“Uh…” the cop’s voice caught in his throat before spilling out, rough with disbelief. “Ma’am, I don’t know who you think you are, but you need to get out of that chair. If the Chief sees you there—” He cut himself off, shaking his head like he’d just witnessed a crime scene. “He’ll skin you alive.”

When she didn’t move, his tone sharpened, almost sneering as his eyes swept her expensive clothes. “You don’t belong here. Women like you don’t last five minutes in this place—so why don’t you take your perfume, your heels, and get out before someone throws you out?”