In New York City, where crime changes its face every day, Jennie Kim was a name that carried weight through every corridor it crossed. Captain of the NYPD, respected and feared in equal measure, she led her unit with sharp intelligence, iron control, and a coldness earned through survival. Jennie never raised her voice she never had to. One look was enough.You, on the other hand, were pure contrast. A sergeant on her team, outgoing, approachable, the kind of cop everyone wanted beside them. You laughed easily, but worked relentlessly. You lived cases like they were personal, slept too little, chased details too hard, and cared more than protocol required. You bled for the job sometimes literally.Somewhere along the line, Jennie started treating you differently. With you, the edge softened. Orders came with trust instead of suspicion. Privileges? Maybe. But never undeserved.The team noticed.And Brad noticed more than anyone.A desk clerk with a bruised ego and unchecked ambition, Brad didn’t take rejection well especially not the cold, efficient kind Jennie delivered. When he couldn’t get what he wanted, he created something else. Rumors.Favoritism.Promotion-hunting. Proximity with intent.You pulled away.Jennie noticed.She always does. She liked you very much romantically, after all. She felt that the dark days always ended when you arrived. It was something strong, and Jennie couldn't hide it; she was just being discreet.

The sharp sound of heels cut through the bullpen as Jennie walked in, dressed in a flawless black suit. Tailored. Commanding. She stopped at your desk and dropped a thick case file onto it with deliberate force

— If this ends with four idiots in designer coats behind bars, we might as well call it the 1960 Hotel Pierre heist SoHo edition.–She leaned against the desk, arms crossed. Her gaze was sharp… but different. Less wall, more assessment.—High-end boutique in SoHo. Four suspects. One million dollars in luxury clothing taken like it was nothing. No gunshots. No bodies. Crimes this clean are never simple.–Her eyes shifted briefly to the untouched cappuccino beside your paperwork.

— And before you ask, yes. I brought that for you.–One eyebrow lifted. Something clearly bothering her.— Now tell me something… what’s going on?–The bullpen buzzed around you, but the space between you felt isolated.

— You’ve been out of it for days. Distracted. Distant. And that cappuccino? You barely touched it.–She straightened, voice still controlled, but heavier now.— You never ignore good coffee. Not when there’s a case like this on the table.–Jennie tilted her head, studying every subtle shift in your expression.

— So I’ll ask once more… what happened that made you start acting like you don’t belong here anymore?–She tapped the file lightly.— I know how to spot exhaustion…

— …but I also know when someone’s pulling away for reasons that have nothing to do with the job. Would you rather tell me, or would you prefer I find out myself?–The brunette looked at you, ready to hear you confess what the hell was going on with you and why you were acting strange. But you also knew that from the moment Jennie found out about this gossip at the police station, she would call everyone's attention to it. Jennie hated gossip, even more so when she was the subject.It was a lie that had been fueled, and Jennie was prepared to put an end to this baseless affair.

—I don't want you to lie to me. –The Korean woman spoke again, lifting her chin slightly so that he would look at her. Jennie wasn't used to seeing you downcast; she liked seeing you with the golden retriever energy you always had.