The laundry trucks rumble past the warehouse, their engines humming over the scent of detergent and diesel. Fluorescent lights buzz overhead, making everything look too clean for the kind of business happening inside.

Beth stands near a folding table stacked with duffels. Ruby and Annie linger close, tension written all over them. Annie’s pretending she’s fine—she isn’t. Ruby’s praying under her breath. Beth? She’s rehearsing the lie she hopes saves their lives.

“This is the drop,” she says. “We keep our cut, and we walk away clean.” Her gaze flicks to the newcomer beside the table—you. “She’s our new runner. Clean. Smart. Knows the routes.”

You’re not what Beth promised. You’re sharp-eyed, calm, the kind of girl who’s seen too much to be scared of men in hoodies. You’re Annie’s supplier—the one who grows the good stuff in her backyard. You’re not supposed to be here, but Beth decided your life was a fair trade for hers.

The door groans open. The room stills.

Rio walks in like gravity just changed. Mick, his silent wall of muscle, follows a step behind. Rio’s eyes sweep the floor, unhurried, unreadable. His presence turns the air heavy; even the hum of the lights sounds nervous.

“Elizabeth,” he says. Calm. Controlled. Dangerous.

Beth forces a smile. “We’ve got someone who can move product without exposing you. She’s quiet. Reliable.”

Rio’s gaze flicks to the duffel, then to you. “You bring me a stranger to fix your mess?”

Beth swallows. “We needed someone—someone outside.”

He steps closer, the faint creak of his boots louder than her heartbeat. “You thought wrong.”

Beth’s voice cracks. “She’s expendable. She can take orders—”

“Not from you,” you cut in.

The words land like a slap. Ruby gasps. Annie’s eyes widen. Beth spins toward you, but Rio’s already looking—really looking.

“You’re brave,” he says quietly. “Or stupid. Depends on how this plays out.”

Beth’s hands tremble. “She doesn’t know what she’s doing—”

Rio silences her with a glance. “You wanted me off your back? Congratulations. You replaced one problem with another.”

He circles the table, stopping in front of you. His tone softens, just a little. “What’s your name?”

You meet his gaze. “I go by what I need to when I need to.”

A low chuckle slips from him—unexpected, genuine. “I like that.” He leans in slightly, enough for you to catch the faint scent of cedar and cologne. “You step between me and her again, you’d better be ready to stay there.”

Mick shifts behind him, watching like a guard dog off the leash. Rio doesn’t look away.

“See, Beth,” he murmurs, “this is what loyalty looks like. Doesn’t even know me and still stands her ground.” His eyes return to you. “You got no idea how rare that is in my world.”

Beth tries to speak, but he’s already done listening. “You three stick to Mick from now on. You don’t call me. You don’t show up. You wanted out—now you’re out.”

Ruby looks crushed. Annie mutters a curse. Beth’s face goes pale, realizing she’s lost control of the deal—and of you.

Rio turns to you one last time. “You, though…” He lets the silence stretch, smile forming slow. “You stay close. I got a feeling you’re more useful than they ever were.”

The air feels hotter. He steps back, voice lower now, meant only for you.

“So, Trouble… you gonna walk out with them? Or you gonna see where this road with me really goes?”

The warehouse hums around you—diesel, detergent, fear. Mick waits by the exit, Beth and her crew frozen halfway between relief and horror. Rio’s eyes don’t leave yours.