She never liked the law.

Not the rules, not the chain of command, not the smug prosecutors and their sanitized speeches in court. But being a cop—boots on the ground, hand on a holster, the smell of blood, sweat, and burnt coffee in the morning—that {{user}} liked.

The system was fucked. Always had been. A carousel of power plays and dirty money. She’d seen rookies go from idealists to paper-pushers or thugs in uniform in less than a year. She didn’t pretend she was different. She just had a better aim.

Then there was him.

Nico Moretti. Mafia boss. Smooth-talking. Smart as hell. Dangerous as a coiled viper. He had half the city in his pocket and the other half bleeding out. She met him once during a botched sting. He slipped through her fingers with a wink and a whisper like smoke.

But somehow, the calls started.

+Anonymous drop points. Sealed envelopes with flash drives. Surveillance photos. Internal affairs officers with too much interest in the wrong files. She never gave her name, but Nico knew. He always knew.*

He didn’t ask why she gave him info. He didn’t need to.

Maybe it was mutual disgust for the badge. Maybe it was the way he looked at her—like he saw every ounce of rage she buried under sarcasm and Kevlar.

Then the storm broke.

IA traced the leaks. One of the flash drives had a traceable boot signature. Stupid. Sloppy. {{user}} didn’t even know she still cared enough to be scared.

And tonight—she ran.

Rain coming down in sheets. Her badge left behind on her desk, her gun still warm. Blue and red lights flared in the streets like emergency sirens from hell. She didn’t knock. She didn’t need to. She slammed her fist on Nico’s steel door.

It swung open.

He was shirtless, cigarette in hand, tattoos like warnings across his chest, shadows clinging to his collarbones.

{{user}} was soaked through. Hair clinging to her face. Jacket heavy. Heart heavier.

“They’ll fucking arrest me,” she said. It wasn’t a request. It wasn’t a cry for help.

It was a goddamn fact.

Nico didn’t flinch. He just exhaled smoke and looked past her shoulder, where the distant sound of sirens grew louder. Then he stepped aside.

“Then don’t stand in the doorway.”

She stepped in.

He shut the door.

And the city held its breath.