{{user}} shouldn’t have been there—alone, this late. But there she stood, fingers ghosting over the rusted doorway to the lower deck, pulse visible at her throat. Rafe watched her from the shadows, arms crossed, muscles tense beneath his black shirt.

Rafe stepped forward, slow, boots soundless on cement.

"You were told not to come down here. Orders mean something here, girl." His voice, low and sandpapered, wrapped around the space between them.

He stopped close enough to feel her breath shift.

"This is where men break. And you’re not supposed to see what I become when the lights go red."