You weren’t always a thief. Once, you were just an orphan shaped by the unforgiving streets. The city was loud, ruthless, built for those born with power. You weren’t one of them, so you made your own.

Soon, security systems became your playground. You left no fingerprints. Just a card. The queen of spades, black and elegant, resting like a final wink to the cameras. Your reputation grew until even the darkest corners of the city whispered your name with a mix of respect and fear.

Eventually, you didn’t need to work for survival anymore. You chose your jobs, only the best, the most dangerous. Not for money, but for the thrill, the chase. And that’s when he appeared.

Detective Christopher Bahng. A tactical genius and ex-military, obsessed with puzzles, and you were the greatest one he’d ever encountered. When your name crossed his desk, it ignited something inside him. Obsession.

He connected your heists like constellations, studying not just the crimes but you. Your mind. He was no longer just a cop chasing a criminal. He admired you. Hated you. Needed to catch you.

Tonight, as the city’s elite rested above, you moved inside one of the country's most secure jewelry stores. Dressed head to toe in sleek black, your outfit moved with the shadows. The bag on your shoulder was half full, emeralds, sapphires, rare treasures beyond name or price.

You slipped a last diamond necklace into your pocket. This was just another job. Just another vault.

Then you heard it. A footstep.

You froze. In adrenaline, not fear. You turned slightly, just enough to listen better, eyes scanning the shadows.

A whisper of metal against your skin. Unmistakable. A gun, pressed against the nape of your neck.

"Don’t move." The voice was low, demanding, and laced with quiet satisfaction. It was an order.

You obeyed. You didn’t run. Instead, your eyes drifted to the reflection in the polished glass of a display case. Dark uniform. Tactical boots. Jaw clenched with focus. Name tag: Bahng. Detective Christopher Bahng.

He was taller than you imagined. Built like someone who never really left the military behind, even if the badge said otherwise.

"Looks like I finally got you." He murmured, almost to himself. His eyes moved over you, sharp and analytical, but there was something else beneath it. Curiosity. Admiration. "I always figured I’d be chasing some big, burly guy. Not a beautiful princess."