Eight years later

Nina

“Sir, I have some intel about the Black Smoke gang and—”

“What did I tell you about putting your nose where it doesn’t belong, Agent Torres?” Chief Keef shot me a withering glare.

I stayed undeterred. “Sir, this time the information is good.”

“Really?” He stopped and turned, one eyebrow arching. “Okay then, agent. Who’s your source?”

“That doesn’t matter. What matters is this is usable—something we can use to nail them once and for all. Those bastards keep slipping through our fingers.”

He raised a hand to cut me off. “So what makes you think you can finally catch guys who’ve been evading our best agents for years? There’s a reason nobody’s put them away, Torres—there’s no admissible evidence.”

I scoffed. “Oh, come on, chief. We all know the Black Smoke gang are the worst scum.”

He shrugged. “We all know it, yes. But common sense isn’t what you bring to a courtroom. Rafael Santiago—the man suspected of leading them—presents to the world as a philanthropic billionaire. He’s got dozens of businesses that may or may not be money-laundering fronts.”

“Chief—” I started, but he’d already turned and continued down the hallway toward his office. Gritting my teeth, I sped up to catch him. “I don’t even need the rest of the team. I just need your permission to check this intel. If it’s a bust, I’ll drop it. If it isn’t—”

He halted, sighed, and spun to look me in the eye. “Agent Torres, you’re a damn good agent.”

Pride swelled. I’d kicked my own ass through college and the Academy to become an FBI agent. I’d pursued leads and paperwork and late nights—and for years I’d been trying to find Rosa.

Deep down I believed she was still out there, and that bastard Rafael Santiago knew where. If I could tie him to that night, I could save her.

“But you’re too damn fixated on the Black Smoke gang,” he finished. The words deflated me. “I don’t know what this obsession is—”

“They’re evil and notorious, and the longer we let them roam, the worse this city gets. If we want to—”

“Cleaning up the city isn’t our job.” He cut me off with a hard look. “Leave this alone. Stop sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong before you get hurt. Leave the Black Smoke gang to the big boys.”

My fists clenched at my sides. By “big boys” he meant Richard Greer and Matthew Mullock—the two alpha agents who treated the job like a trophy hunt. They wanted glory and press releases; they didn’t give a damn about the victims.

“It’s been months since they had a lead,” I protested.

He shrugged. “Why don’t you hand your so-called intel to them? They’ll check it out.”

There was no way I’d trust those assholes with what I’d dug up through blood, sweat, and tears.

“But—”

“Enough, Torres.” He snapped. “This discussion is over. And one more thing—if you disobey me and pursue this on your own, you’ll be in big trouble. Understood?”

I forced a nod. “Understood, sir.”

“Good. Now go get me my damn coffee from that nice place down the street.” He turned to walk away, then glanced over his shoulder. “And the paperwork from the Colby case was supposed to be on my desk two days ago. If you don’t want this job, Torres, I know a hundred people eager to take your place.”

“The file will be on your desk before the day ends, sir,” I said.

“Don’t fail me.” His voice carried a warning. “And while you’re at it—throw in some donuts with the coffee.”

Damn it.

One year on the job and I was still stuck doing paperwork and coffee runs. If it weren’t for capability, I was capable—but this was the reality of being a woman in a male-dominated field. I was treated like a secretary more than an agent, and I was sick of it.

I marched out and headed down the street for Chief Keef’s coffee and donut. As I paid, my phone buzzed. The caller ID flashed. I answered.

“Hey.”

“You know that cute lawyer from the other day? He thinks you’re perfect and he’s interested,” Katy squealed into the phone.

“I’m not interested, Katy. I’ve told you a million times—I’m not dating right now.” I sighed.

“But, Nina!” she whined. “You always say no. Don’t you think he’s cute?”

“I do—” My words trailed off as someone bumped into me. I nearly spilled the coffee. “Hey, watch it!”

“Are you even listening, Nina?” Katy snapped. “You never hang out, you never go on dates. All you do is work.”

I rolled my eyes, tired of the same lecture. “Can we talk later?”

“No—we’re talking now!” she insisted.

Across the road, a dark-haired man shook hands with another man and slid into a black Mercedes. I caught my breath when I realized who it was.

“You spend every waking moment digging into the Black Smoke gang and talking about—”

“Rafael Santiago,” I muttered.

“Yeah, him,” she hissed.

“No, I mean—he’s right across the road.” I blurted. “I have to go.”

“Nina, don’t do anything stupid. Do not confront the big, bad, deadly gang leader. Please tell me you’re not that crazy.”

I winced, ended the call, and climbed into a waiting cab. Maybe I was a little crazy. But I had to find Rosa. Time was running out.

“Where to, ma’am?” the driver asked.

“Follow that black Mercedes. Now.”