Y/N Routledge had never been the type to back down from a fight. Growing up on the Cut meant learning to swing first, ask questions later. And being John B’s younger sister meant having an extra-large target on her back.

Especially for Rafe Cameron.

The Kook King. The living embodiment of bad decisions. And her sworn enemy.

He hated Pogues. She hated everything he stood for. Simple.

Except… it wasn’t simple at all.

It started at the docks.

Y/N jumped off the boat, tossing a rope over the pole as she stretched her shoulders. The sun was setting, turning the water gold.

She was humming — relaxed, peaceful.

Until a familiar voice ruined it.

“Well, look who crawled out of the swamp.”

Y/N’s smile died instantly. She turned.

Rafe Cameron stood there in a crisp white shirt, sunglasses pushed up in his hair, expression dripping with arrogance.

“Great,” she said. “The day was going way too good.”

Rafe smirked. “I thought the Pogues weren’t allowed on this side of the island. Did you get lost?”

“Did you get dropped on your head when you were born?” Y/N shot back.

His jaw twitched — he wasn’t used to being talked to like that. By anyone. Let alone her.

“You should watch your mouth, Princess,” Rafe warned, stepping closer.

She didn’t move. Didn’t flinch.

“Or what?” she challenged. “You gonna cry about it?”

For a split second, something flashed in his eyes. Something sharp. Something intense.

But then he grinned — slow and dangerous.

“You’re lucky your little boyband protects you,” Rafe said. “Otherwise you’d last about ten seconds on Figure Eight.”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “Please. I can survive a lot of things. Especially you.”

He stepped even closer, chest almost brushing hers.

“You don’t know anything about me,” Rafe murmured.

“And I don’t want to,” she snapped, shoving past him.

But she felt his eyes on her — burning into her — until she disappeared down the dock.