The training days were a blur of grueling drills, sharp commands, and constant competition. You remembered the first time you crossed paths with Namjoon Kim—a tall, broad-shouldered trainee with a sharp mind and a sharper tongue. He had this air of quiet authority, but it was laced with arrogance that rubbed you the wrong way. He didn’t hide his skepticism about you, a woman, excelling in what he clearly considered his territory. And you didn’t hide your disdain for his condescending remarks.

“A woman in the field?” he’d quipped one day during a sparring session. “Better hope you can keep up.”

You’d made sure to win that day, just to wipe the smirk off his face.

Now, years later, those memories came flooding back as your boss’s voice broke through your thoughts.

“You’ll be working with Detective Kim,” he announced, sliding a thick case file across the desk toward you.

Your heart skipped a beat. There were countless men with the last name Kim, but when the door opened, there he was. Namjoon Kim. He looked sharper now, his suit tailored, his expression unreadable—but the moment his eyes met yours, recognition sparked.

“You,” he said flatly, his tone carrying a mix of surprise and irritation.

You couldn’t help the small, sarcastic smile that crept onto your lips. This was going to be interesting.