The warehouse loomed like a haunted cathedral on the outskirts of the city, its corrugated metal walls echoing with ghosts of forgotten trades. Inside, a single overhead bulb flickered above a metal table. Selena's heels clicked like a countdown as she entered, her silhouette outlined by the moonlight streaming through broken windows. Jace followed close behind, the glint of his badge and gun contrasting the raw ache in his eyes.
Vivienne Kane sat at the table, the picture of elegance and venom. Her fitted white coat hugged her body like armor, her lips painted blood red, and her fingers encased in black gloves curled around a glass of scotch. She looked up slowly, eyes narrowing with calculation.
"You've grown bolder, Selena," Vivienne said, voice cool as ice. "Bringing your lover to the battlefield. How quaint."
"I'm done being quiet," Selena replied. "And I'm done being used."
Jace stayed silent, but his hand rested near the grip of his pistol. Vivienne noticed.
"Relax, Detective. I didn't bring a gun tonight," she said, pushing a velvet envelope toward them. "What I brought is far more dangerous."
Selena picked it up, opening it to reveal photos grainy, timestamped, and damning. Adrian in bed with another woman. Not just any woman Vivienne's sister.
Selena's breath hitched.
"He's a liar, and he always has been," Vivienne said, standing. "You thought you were the only one? Oh, sweetheart, Adrian never plays with just one toy."
The ache in Selena's chest gave way to fury.
"What do you want, Vivienne?"
"I want him ruined. I want his empire crumbled, his reputation torched. And I want you to help me do it."
Jace stepped forward. "And what's in it for us?"
Vivienne smiled slowly. "Protection. Resources. And revenge."
Back at Selena's apartment, the tension dissolved into something far more primal. She pressed Jace against the wall as soon as they entered, her body ignited by anger and lust. Their mouths met in a furious kiss, his hands gripping her thighs, lifting her off the floor.
"I need to feel something that isn't betrayal," she gasped between kisses.
He carried her to the bedroom, laying her down gently, eyes locked with hers. Slowly, he peeled off her dress, his mouth leaving a trail of heat down her neck, between her breasts, across her stomach. She arched under him, her fingers tangling in his hair.
"I've got you," he murmured.
"Don't stop," she whispered. "Please, Jace."
He didn't. His touch was reverent yet hungry, his tongue drawing cries from her lips as he tasted every inch of her. She bucked against him, the need building fast and hard. When he finally moved inside her, it wasn't just sex it was release, reclamation, a vow made in sweat and gasps.
They moved in rhythm, a furious tempo of desire and desperation. Her nails carved his back. His lips marked her skin. When they came together, it was a symphony of moans and whispered names.
After, she lay draped across his chest, his fingers stroking her back.
"I want to believe we can win," she murmured.
"We will. But first, we take down Adrian."
Vivienne's villa was a hive of activity. Her assistant read off names of board members, offshore contacts, and loyal allies. On a table, the Royce Papers were spread out, annotated with color-coded tabs.
"We'll hit him where it hurts first his money," Vivienne said. "Then we take the narrative. Leak the affair with my sister, expose the war crimes in West Africa, and drop the footage of him threatening that journalist."
The assistant nodded. "And Selena?"
"If she stays smart, she survives. If not... well, I always admired chess."
The following morning, Selena received a package. Inside: a burner phone and a silver flash drive. A note in elegant script:
Use this when the wolves circle. – V.
Jace watched her as she held the drive. "She playing both sides?"
Selena shook her head. "No. She's playing for herself. And we need to stay one step ahead."
They mapped out the next move, planning to leak Adrian's offshore transfers to a whistleblower journalist. But the risks grew thicker. A black SUV followed them that night. Jace confronted it at a red light, gun drawn but it was empty. A message taped to the windshield: Too slow.
They were being hunted.
Adrian Kane stared at the photograph Vivienne had sent him, his eyes narrowing. Selena and Jace. Tangled in each other. He slammed his fist onto his mahogany desk, shattering a glass of whiskey.
"Selena, you ungrateful bitch," he hissed. "You think you can betray me?"
He picked up the phone.
"Get Monroe. Alive. And bring her to me."
His men nodded and vanished into the shadows.
Adrian opened his safe. Inside: a gun, a gold locket with Selena's photo, and a dossier labeled Operation Bloodline.
He wasn't going down without a war.
That night, Selena and Jace sat in his apartment, surrounded by maps and intel.
"He knows," Jace said, watching her.
"Then we go scorched earth," she replied. "No more secrets. No more fear."
She moved to him then, straddling his lap, kissing him like it was the last night they'd have. Her body pressed to his, she whispered, "Make me forget everything."
Clothes disappeared. Moans filled the room. He entered her slowly, their eyes locked. Each thrust was a promise. Each kiss, a confession.
Their climax came not with a scream but with silence aching, beautiful, perfect.
After, he kissed her shoulder. "You are not his. You never were."
"Then let's prove it."
Selena uploaded the files that night. Offshore accounts, arms shipments, classified documents linking Adrian to crimes in multiple countries. The journalist responded within minutes: The world will know by sunrise.
But before they could breathe, the door exploded inward. Smoke. Shouts. A stun grenade.
Selena screamed as masked men swarmed the room. Jace reached for his weapon, but a baton cracked against his head.
Selena's last sight before darkness took her: Adrian, stepping through the smoke, smiling like a devil.
"Time to come home, darling."