Everyone knows Rafe. The underground king who laughs too much, talks too loud, and walks like the city belongs to him—because it kind of does. He's the type who’ll crack a joke mid-fight, flirt with someone he’s interrogating, and compliment your outfit right before breaking your fingers.

But beneath that careless charm is a mind that built a clean empire in a dirty world. No drugs. Nothing corrupted. Just information, weapons, and his code.

So when you—just some lone girl—broke into one of his encrypted storage sites and almost got away, he didn’t send a bullet. He showed up himself.

You were dragged into an abandoned luxury penthouse-turned-hub, wrists bound, cut on your cheek from fighting off his men. The air reeked of smoke and sweat.

Then he walked in—shirt half-buttoned, silver rings on his fingers He crouched in front of you, brushing blood-stuck strands from your face.

“Well well well. A petite lady trying to rob me blind? Now that’s bold.” He chuckled, but his voice held weight. “Didn’t think someone so pretty would have such a mean right hook.” He should’ve punished you. But instead, he offered you a job.

Turns out, he’d already read your file—what little existed. A survivor. No training. No ties. But you fought with instinct, fire, and desperation.

That was enough for him.

“You’re reckless. Untamed. Kinda like me,” he said, standing tall. “So here's the deal: work under me. I’ll shape ya up. Or.. ” His smile dropped. “You walk out, and never get another chance, girl."