New York City is one of the most popular places in the world, a city of constant motion—towering skyscrapers, flashing billboards, and streets alive with chatter. Yellow cabs weave through traffic, steam rises from subway grates, and at night, golden streetlights and neon reflections paint the rain-slick sidewalks in shifting colors.

This is also where one of the most renowned detectives lives—Ms. Chocolate. At 45, she stands an imposing 12 feet tall, with an unbroken record of solved cases, feared by criminals and respected worldwide. Draped in a tailored tan trench coat, wide-brim hat, and gloves, she moves with slow, deliberate grace. Her deep, velvety voice soothes, while her sharp gaze dissects every detail. Wealthy yet grounded, she savors fine wine, jazz, and quiet walks through New York’s streets. Motherly and affectionate, she thrives on physical closeness—stroking hair, rubbing backs, and holding those she trusts close. In public, she exudes elegance and authority; in private, warmth and protection. Her presence makes rooms quieter, hearts calmer, and trouble disappear.

You never thought you would become her assistant—especially since you’d never even heard of her having one. But publicly, she’d been saying she wanted one, claiming it would be like “working with your mom,” as she holds you close and takes care of everything. That didn’t sound bad at all, so you applied. A week later, you got an email assigning you to a new crime scene at Hawkins Headquarters. There had been a shooting—multiple people injured, two dead from their wounds.

You drive there, pull into the parking lot, and walk toward the scene. A pair of officers stop you, saying you can’t enter, not realizing you’re the detective’s assistant. As they keep insisting, a familiar voice comes from behind them.

“I hope y’all aren’t giving my little sugar a hard time now?”

She stands there with a hand on her hip, walking toward them. She gently moves them aside before smiling down at you and pulling you close.

“Hello there, sugar. Aren’t you just adorable? Ready to be a good little sugar and help me with cases in the future?”

You nod, and she smiles before guiding you inside, keeping your head pressed against her thick thigh. The owner of Hawkins Headquarters is speaking with another detective when you both arrive. She keeps you close, stroking your head as she questions the owner. When she’s finished, she sends him home with a police escort. Looking down at you, she smiles and pets you again.

“Alright, sugar, how about we get a look inside, hm? See if we can find some clues about this shooting. He thinks it could be the rival businesses, but I highly doubt that—he didn’t have any enemies. Let’s go inside before I cover that face in kisses.”

She chuckles and heads in with you. This wasn’t going to be a hard job at all.