Nina

My phone buzzed for what felt like the hundredth time since I'd hung up on Katy. I snatched it up and turned it off without a second thought-my eyes never leaving the black Mercedes ahead.

We'd been tailing the car for over half an hour when it finally slowed and pulled into the lot of a warehouse on the industrial edge of town.

"Shit." I ducked low as Rafael Santiago stepped out of the car. "Drive past a little."

The cab driver grumbled but obeyed. When he finally parked, I shoved a handful of hundred-dollar bills into his hand, wincing as I did. That money had been meant for groceries-but this was more important.

Steeling myself, I climbed out and followed Rafael into the warehouse, crouching low to stay out of sight. I slipped behind a stack of crates and peered through a narrow gap.

Rafael leaned lazily against a concrete pillar, his face half-turned away. Two men stood before him, fidgeting nervously.

"Let me get this straight," he drawled. "You blacked out, and when you came to, the packages were gone?"

The men exchanged panicked glances. "Boss, we-"

"Yes or no?" His voice sharpened, deceptively calm.

"Yes, boss," the first man stammered. "But we can find them. They couldn't have left the city yet-"

"They've had six hours to disappear, Tommaso." Rafael straightened, towering over them.

From my hiding place, I caught only his back-broad shoulders filling out a tailored suit that probably cost more than my rent for the year. What were they talking about? Drugs? Ammunition? Trafficked girls?

"I'm a businessman," Rafael said smoothly, "and I hate losing money. But what I hate even more is someone thinking they can screw me over. I'll choose to believe you-for now. But if I find out you lied..."

He didn't need to finish. The threat hung in the air like smoke.

A door creaked open behind me. I gasped and ducked lower, heart hammering as a new man entered from the side.

"Mr. Santiago, we found the package," he announced. "It's in a warehouse on the south side. They repainted the vehicles to throw us off."

"Good," Rafael murmured.

The group began to move deeper into the building. I waited, breath shallow, until their voices faded. My pulse was pounding with adrenaline. This was it-proof of something illegal, maybe even the break I'd been chasing for years.

If I could follow them and find this package, I might finally have something solid on Santiago.

Excitement surged through me as I crawled out from behind the crates-only to slam headfirst into something solid.

A startled shriek escaped me as I stumbled backward-but a strong arm shot out, looping around my waist and pulling me upright. My body collided with a wall of heat that smelled faintly of leather, spice, and sin.

"Looking for something, ma'am?"

That voice. Smooth. Mocking. Familiar.

I froze, eyes widening as I met Rafael Santiago's gaze-grey eyes glinting like cold steel.

"I-uh-was just-uh-" My mind scrambled for words that didn't exist.

I tore myself from his grip and cleared my throat. "I'm lost, actually."

"Lost?" His mouth curved into a slow, knowing smirk.

I'd always scoffed when people said he was dangerously handsome, but up close, I understood. His beauty wasn't soft-it was sharp. Magnetic. The kind that warned you it would hurt to touch him and made you want to anyway.

"Yes, lost," I repeated, glaring to hide my fluster.

"Is that why you followed me all the way from the city, Agent Torres?" He lifted something, and my heart dropped-it was my badge.

"Give me that!" I snapped, snatching it back.

He chuckled. "Doesn't the Chicago FBI have better things to do than tail an honest businessman?"

"Oh, please," I scoffed. "There's nothing honest about you."

"Now why would you say that?" His smirk deepened, amused.

"How did you even know I was following you?" I demanded. "And why let me?"

He tilted his head, watching me with predatory amusement. "I have to admit, Miss Torres, you're much more entertaining than the two bulldogs who usually trail me."

Richard and Matthew. Of course.

"Are you their replacement?" he asked, genuinely curious. "If so, the Bureau must be getting desperate."

Heat flared up my neck. I stepped closer. "I'm a damn good agent-better than those two asswipes. And no, I'm not their replacement."

"Ah." His eyes gleamed. "So this is a little off-the-books investigation, then? I wonder what your boss would say."

I froze. "Are you threatening me?"

"Why would an honest man do that?" he said silkily.

The smug bastard was taunting me. I wanted to wipe that smirk off his face-preferably with my fist.

"I know you're a criminal," I hissed. "And one day, I'll find the evidence to prove it. Until then, enjoy your empire of lies."

"How cute," he murmured. "Have dinner with me. You can tell me all about how you plan to destroy me."

My eyes widened. "You think I'm stupid enough to fall for that?"

"Fall for what? Dinner?" His eyebrow arched, wickedly amused.

God, he was infuriating. And worse-he was enjoying this.

"I'm not one of your groupies, Santiago," I snapped. "If it were up to me, the only meal you'd get would be prison food."

He smiled. "How about lunch, then?"

"Go to hell."

"Are you always this charming? No wonder you're single."

I staggered back, spluttering. "Who-who says I'm- you know what, it's none of your business!" I snapped. "You know what? I don't have time for this. I have a date to get ready for."

I turned and stormed off, cheeks burning.

Why the hell had I said that?

Ugh.

Nina

"So anyway, after I win the case, I'm going to get promoted and start earning some real money," Bryan said.

I nodded, a polite smile plastered on my face. Lifting my glass, I hid a yawn behind it and silently prayed for a meteor to hit the restaurant. I'd rather be dead than listen to another one of my date's stories. He'd spent the entire evening talking about himself and hadn't asked me a single question.

I had never been this bored in my entire life.

Why the hell had I even agreed to this?

Oh, right-because I'd blurted out to a gang leader that I had a date and was too embarrassed not to follow through.

"There's this apartment on Eleventh," Bryan continued. "Pretty sweet place. I'll be able to afford the rent after my promotion. It's got a nice kitchen. Do you like to cook, Nina?"

"Nope."

"But you're Italian," he laughed. "That's impossible. Italians are known for their cuisine."

I barely stopped myself from rolling my eyes. God, he was such an ass. I opened my mouth to tell him I had to leave, but just then, a tall figure strode into the restaurant. There was something familiar about the wide lines of his shoulders and-

The man turned. My breath caught in my throat.

What the hell was Santiago doing here?

A beautiful blonde was with him, gazing up at him like he'd hung the moon. I ducked my head quickly, heart racing. This couldn't possibly be a coincidence. Or was I just being conceited?

Just then, our waiter appeared, holding an expensive bottle of wine.

"We didn't order this," Bryan said.

"A gentleman asked me to send it over to the lady," the waiter replied.

I had a sinking feeling I knew who. That asshole. What was he playing at?

"Return it," I said flatly.

"Whoa, whoa," Bryan chuckled. "Let's not be hasty. It's probably some rich guy who thinks you're pretty. That's a ten-thousand-dollar bottle of wine, Nina. Rejecting it would be stupid."

I gaped at him. "Are you seriously going to drink it? It's insulting for someone to send a drink to a woman who's clearly on a date with another man."

He shrugged. "This is the twenty-first century, babe. Those old rules don't apply anymore."

Even the waiter looked disgusted as he obediently opened the wine and poured it. I glanced over my shoulder and met Rafael's gaze. From across the room, his mouth curved into a conspiratorial smile.

I considered flipping him off but got distracted by the buzz of my phone.

"Excuse me," I told Bryan, relieved to have an excuse to escape. "I need to take this-it's work."

"Sure, but be quick. This wine is really good, and I'd hate for you to miss out."

Rolling my eyes, I stepped out through the French doors to the balcony and answered the call.

"Agent Torres, where are you?" Chief Keef barked into the phone.

"I'm-"

"I don't care. Get your ass to the docks right now. There's a shootout going down, and the Black Smoke gang is involved. Their leader is here too. This is your chance to finally get the glory of catching them."

I didn't care about the glory. I only cared about finding Rosa-but I let him believe whatever he wanted. If he knew how personal this was for me, he'd never let me near the case.

"What do you mean their leader is there?" I asked, his words sinking in.

"Exactly what I said," he replied. "Richard got intel earlier that clears Rafael Santiago. The man's clean as a whistle apparently, just a businessman."

"That's impossible! We've been after him for years sir. He can't just suddenly turn out to be innocent."

"Agent Torres, you're testing my goddamn patience. Get to the docks, now. We've got a gang leader to catch." He hung up before I could respond.

No. Impossible. Rafael was their leader, I knew it in my bones.

So how could he be here while someone else played the part?

At once, it clicked. This was part of his plan to exonerate himself. He was using me as his alibi while he orchestrated a fake confrontation at the docks.

I'd be impressed if he wasn't a criminal.

Fuming, I marched back into the restaurant. Bryan said something, but I brushed past him, heading straight for Rafael's table. From the amusement in his eyes, he already knew why I was there.

"What game are you playing?" I hissed.

"Hey, who are you?" his date snapped, but we both ignored her.

"I'm not playing any game, Miss Torres," he said smoothly. "I just thought you'd enjoy the wine."

"This isn't about the damn wine and you know it." I slapped my palm on the table, rattling the plates.

"Oh? Then what's it about?" he smiled.

"You're not going to fool me, Santiago. Your little distraction trick won't work. You might push the attention off you for now, but eventually, we'll find evidence and toss you into the deepest, darkest cell we can find."

"How very morbid," he drawled. "And here I thought the wine would help you release all that pent-up aggression."

He raised his glass and took a slow sip.

My eyes narrowed. "I don't have pent up aggression! And stop trying to change the topic."

"What was the topic again? Remind me." 

I hated him so much. I couldn't wait to finally see him behind bars. Shooting him one last scowl, I spun on my heel and stormed out, leaving Bryan behind. He could enjoy the wine without me.

Someone bumped into me as I stepped onto the curb. "Hey, watch-"

I gasped as pain exploded in my stomach.

"You shouldn't have put your nose where it doesn't belong, bitch," the hooded man hissed before disappearing into the empty street.

I pressed a trembling hand to the knife buried in my stomach, my knees giving way. I fell to the ground, fighting to keep my eyes open as tears blurred my vision.

The last thought I had before everything went dark was that I'd failed to save my sister.

Nina

"Nina, no! Nina! Help me-please, Nina!"

My eyes flew open, heart hammering against my ribs. Rosa's voice still echoed in my ears, desperate and raw. The same nightmare again. The same helplessness that had haunted me since the day she was taken from Ortega's.

I tried to sit up, but a bolt of white-hot pain ripped through my side. "Fuck!" I gasped, collapsing back onto the bed.

"Take it easy. You almost died," a familiar voice said.

My head snapped toward the sound. Rafael Santiago.

The sterile white walls, the rhythmic beeping of a heart monitor, and the faint antiseptic smell told me I was in a hospital. My mind raced, trying to piece together how I'd gotten here-and then it hit me. The alley, the knife, the blood.

"You bastard!" I spat. "Are you here to finish the job?"

He pushed off the wall he'd been leaning against, one brow arching. "Finish you off?"

"You sent someone after me! You had me stabbed and-"

"Why would I do that?"

"Because I'm this close to digging up enough dirt to put you behind bars for life-and it's scaring the hell out of you," I hissed, scanning the room for a call button, a nurse, anyone who could help. Or had he already paid everyone off?

Rafael's gaze hardened. "How do you live like this? Always paranoid." He clicked his tongue, a sound that made my skin prickle. "You almost died, Agent Torres. I found you bleeding out and brought you here. A thank you would suffice."

"You expect me to believe-"

He cut me off with a glare that could freeze blood. "I don't care what you believe. But your blood ruined my new leather upholstery."

I glared right back. "So it's all just a game to you."

"A game?" His jaw ticked. "And what game do you think I'm playing?"

"Your lackeys screwed up," I shot back. "So you saved me to make me think you're the good guy. Nice try, but I'm not falling for it."

He stepped closer, slowly, deliberately, until his face was just inches from mine. Up close, I noticed the green ring around his gray eyes, and the thin scar that cut through his left eyebrow. My breath hitched, caught between fear and something I didn't dare name.

He reached out, brushing a strand of hair from my face. "Agent Torres," he said, his voice low, dangerous. "I didn't get where I am by hiring incompetents. If I wanted you dead, you'd be dead. My lackey, as you so eloquently put it, wouldn't have failed."

I swallowed hard. "So you're admitting the attack was your doing?"

His eyes turned to ice. Then, without another word, he straightened to his full height. "You're relentless. Admirable, but stupid. Try not to get stabbed again, Agent Torres. I might not be close enough to save you next time."

Before I could fire back, he turned and strode out, leaving me with more questions than answers.

Could he actually be innocent?

No. My source swore he had evidence tying Rafael Santiago to the Black Smoke Gang. Once that proof came in, I'd finally unmask him-and maybe, just maybe, find Rosa.

If she's still alive, a voice whispered in the back of my mind.

I shoved the thought away. She had to be alive. I would know if she wasn't. Twin instinct, maybe-but it was the only thing keeping me going.

"Agent Torres. Good, you're awake."

I turned to see Chief Keef stride into the room, with Matthew and Richard trailing behind him.

"Chief," I greeted. "Am I cleared to leave?"

"Cleared to-?" He blinked like I'd just told a joke. "You were stabbed, Agent. You're not going anywhere. You're on medical rest for ten days."

"Ten days?" I nearly shouted. "I can't stay here that long! I have-"

"Your case has been reassigned," he interrupted. "Your only job now is to heal. Don't bother arguing, Torres. You're not winning this one."

I clenched my jaw, swallowing a curse. "Any leads on who attacked me?"

"We pulled footage from the area," the Chief said, shaking his head. "The assailant knew where every camera was. Hood up the entire time, no facial ID."

"We've got people on it though," Richard added. "We'll find the guy."

"The Black Smoke Gang has to be behind this," I said, my voice rising.

Behind the Chief, Matthew rolled his eyes. "That's ridiculous. Why would they target you? You're just a rookie."

"Matthew's right," the Chief said. "If anyone should be worried, it's us." He gestured to the two men behind him.

"Probably a robbery gone wrong," Richard added with a shrug.

"That was my first thought too," the Chief agreed.

"It wasn't a robbery!" I barked. "The bastard told me to stop sticking my nose where it didn't belong, right before he stabbed me!"

"You're mistaken," Matthew said. "You were in shock. And if it wasn't a robbery, why'd he take your purse?"

"He did?" My eyes widened. "Chief, listen, this-"

"Take your time and recover, Agent Torres," he interrupted firmly.

"But-"

"No buts." He snapped, heading for the door. Then he paused. "Nice flowers, by the way. Didn't know you were seeing someone."

My eyes followed his to a vase of yellow carnations on the bedside table. When the room finally emptied, I reached for the note tucked among the blooms.

The handwriting was jagged, the ink smudged, as if written in a rush.

'We have our eyes on you, bitch.'

My blood turned to ice.