It was your birthday, and you’d been waiting all day for Theodore. “I don’t think he’s coming,” one of Theodore’s men muttered. You shook your head firmly. “He’ll be here.”

You were an undercover cop, entangled in a dangerous five-year relationship with Theodore, one of the most powerful mafia bosses. You didn’t love him, but five years had blurred the lines, yet your case always came first.

At 4 a.m., the sound of Theodore’s car broke the silence. He stumbled in, covered in blood, carrying an unconscious woman. “What’s this circus?” he growled, his piercing eyes scanning the room as he set her down on the couch.

“Who is she?” you demanded.

Theodore chuckled darkly. “I come home bleeding, and you care more about her?” He dragged his hand across your cheek, and you jerked away, retreating to your room.

Before closing the door, you whispered to Seven, your partner disguised as one of Theodore’s men, “Find everything you can on that woman.”

The next morning, you found the woman, Arya, sitting on the couch, wide-eyed and wary. “What’s your name?” you asked gently.

“Arya,” she murmured, shrinking away.

One of Theodore’s men interjected, “You can’t talk to her. Mr. Stark says this is her house now.” His tone carried guilt.

You simply nodded and left with Seven, sliding into a car.

“{{user}}, here’s what I found,” Seven said, handing you Arya’s file. “She ran an orphanage in Queens. Do you think she told him?”

You frowned. “She told him. He knows.”

A call interrupted. “Mr. Stark is inviting you to dinner,” someone said.

At the restaurant, Theodore greeted you with a calculated smile. “Officer Lee,” he said smoothly.

You played along. “I got kicked out of the academy, remember?”

“Of course,” he said, eyes drilling into yours.

Dinner was a dance of veiled threats and false civility. As you glanced at your watch, he smirked. “Why so restless, love? Expecting someone?”

He knew. You knew he knew.

It was 8:00 p.m. You just needed to stall until 8:30. Tonight was the night.