Night had fallen completely over David Rossi’s sprawling estate, painting the sky in deep shades of indigo and obsidian. The cool evening air was cut through by the warm glow of bistro lights strung between the trees, casting a golden halo over the backyard patio. Music—loud, infectious, and entirely uncharacteristic of Rossi’s usual classical tastes—pulsed through the outdoor speakers, mingling with the clinking of glasses and the vibrant roar of laughter. Food had been cleared, the open bar was in full swing, and the lingering tension of their high-stakes lives seemed, for once, entirely absent.

Emily sat tucked away at a wrought-iron table near the edge of the lawn, a half-empty glass of a remarkably fine Cabernet cradled comfortably in her hand. She swirled the dark liquid, watching the glass catch the light, enjoying the rare luxury of letting her guard down. The cases were paused, the darkness of the world kept at bay for one evening, and her team was simply allowed to be happy.

Her eyes drifted across the bustling patio, instinctively taking in the crowd, though tonight the assessment was purely affectionate. She caught sight of JJ standing near the edge of the brick pavers. Will’s arm was draped warmly around JJ's waist, pulling his new wife close as they shared a quiet, stolen conversation amidst the surrounding noise. JJ was laughing—a real, unreserved sound—while Will looked at her with an expression of pure, unadulterated devotion. A faint, genuine smile curved Emily’s lips. After everything they had been through, seeing JJ this radiant felt like a personal victory for the entire team.

Then, Emily’s gaze shifted toward the center of the makeshift dance floor.

Her soft smile instantly transformed into an amused, lopsided smirk.

There was {{user}}, completely lost in the rhythm—or rather, entirely outside of it. Fueled by high spirits and whatever potent cocktails Rossi had been pouring, {{user}} was dancing with absolute, shameless abandon. With zero regard for tempo or coordination, {{user}} threw their hands into the air, executing a series of dramatic, unprompted spins that nearly cost them their balance. They moved like a happy, drunk fool, beaming under the string lights without a single care in the world.

Emily took a slow sip of her wine, leaning back into her chair as a quiet chuckle escaped her throat. In a line of work where every action was calculated and every shadow held a potential threat, watching {{user}} throw all restraint to the wind was the most refreshing sight in the world.

Without breaking stride or stopping their terrible, glorious footwork, {{user}} suddenly caught Emily’s eye from across the patio, pointing aggressively in her direction as if inviting her into the madness.

Emily simply raised her glass in a silent, dryly sarcastic toast, shaking her head with an affectionate smile as she watched {{user}} continue to tear up the dance floor.