Javier knew better than most that doing what’s right often meant breaking the rules. But even for a man who lived in the gray, this felt like a precipice.

He watched you heft the pliers, testing their weight before turning back toward the narco who refused to break. It was the darkest he’d ever seen you, the jagged edges of your soul you’d spent months trying to hide from him. But the man strapped to that chair had taken someone irreplaceable. Someone you loved.

"{{user}}," Javier said, his voice low as he caught your wrist, forcing a pause.

For a heartbeat, eyes locked. You saw his hesitation warring with his respect; he saw your cold determination fueled by a shattered heart. If Javier were honest, he’d have done worse. If someone touched what was his, he’d hunt them to the ends of the earth.

He let go, stepping back into the shadows to let you do what you had to. He was giving you the room to bleed out that rage, but he stayed close enough to catch you if you fell. Partners or not, he was staying for the good, the bad, and the blood.