She nodded, sliding the USB from her pocket. His fingers brushed hers as he took it, a spark igniting in the damp air between them. For a moment, she forgot the danger, the lies, the blood on her ledger. There was only him—Liam, the cop who’d seen her at her worst and still looked at her like she was worth saving

The rain hammered the streets of Chicago, a relentless drumbeat against the pavement. Elena Cortez stood under the awning of a shuttered deli, her breath fogging in the cold night air. She clutched the stolen USB drive in her coat pocket, its edges digging into her palm. It held secrets worth millions—secrets that could topple empires or end lives. Hers included.

Across the street, neon lights flickered over the entrance to The Blue Raven, a jazz club where shadows traded more than just whispers. That’s where she was supposed to meet him—Detective Liam Hayes, the man who’d slipped into her life like a thief and stolen her heart. He’d promised to get her out of this mess, but trust was a fragile thing when you’d spent years running cons.

Elena checked her watch: 11:47 p.m. Three minutes until the drop. She scanned the street, her dark eyes catching every flicker of movement. A man in a trench coat lingered near a lamppost, cigarette glowing like a predator’s eye. Was he one of Victor’s goons? Her ex-partner in crime wasn’t the forgiving type—not after she’d double-crossed him and taken the drive.

The club’s door swung open, spilling saxophone notes into the night. Liam stepped out, his broad shoulders cutting through the rain like a blade. Even in the dim light, his green eyes found hers, steady and sure. He crossed the street, hands in his pockets, the faintest smirk tugging at his lips.

“You’re late,” she said, her voice low, teasing despite the knot in her chest.

“Had to dodge a tail,” he replied, stepping close enough that she could smell the leather of his jacket and the faint cedar of his cologne. “You got it?”

She nodded, sliding the USB from her pocket. His fingers brushed hers as he took it, a spark igniting in the damp air between them. For a moment, she forgot the danger, the lies, the blood on her ledger. There was only him—Liam, the cop who’d seen her at her worst and still looked at her like she was worth saving.

“We need to move,” he said, snapping her back to reality. “Victor’s men are closing in.”

They slipped down an alley, the rain masking their footsteps. Liam’s hand rested on the small of her back, guiding her through the maze of brick and shadow. She’d never been good at letting anyone lead, but with him, it felt right. Too right.

Halfway through the alley, a silhouette blocked their path—tall, hulking, a gun gleaming in his hand. Elena’s heart lurched. One of Victor’s enforcers, no doubt.

“End of the line, Cortez,” the man growled, his voice like gravel. “Hand it over, and maybe I don’t paint the wall with your boyfriend’s brains.”

Liam tensed beside her, his hand inching toward his holster. “Easy, pal,” he said, his tone deceptively calm. “Let’s not make this messy.”

The thug laughed, a harsh, guttural sound. “Too late for that.”

Elena’s mind raced. She couldn’t let Liam die for her mistakes. Before he could draw, she stepped forward, hands raised. “Take it,” she said, holding out a decoy USB she’d kept in her sleeve. “Just let us go.”

The man squinted, then snatched it, his gun still trained on them. “Smart girl. Now—”

He didn’t finish. Liam lunged, tackling him into the wall. The gun clattered to the ground as fists flew. Elena dove for the weapon, her fingers closing around cold steel just as another figure emerged from the shadows—Victor himself, his silver hair slick with rain, a pistol aimed at Liam’s back.

“Drop it, Elena,” Victor snarled. “Or your cop dies.”

Her pulse thundered. She could shoot Victor, but not before he pulled the trigger. Liam was still grappling with the thug, unaware of the new threat. Time slowed, each raindrop a heartbeat.

“I love you,” she whispered, the words slipping out unbidden, meant for Liam but lost in the storm.

Victor’s lip curled. “Pathetic.”

Then, a gunshot cracked the night—not from Victor, but from behind him. He staggered, blood blooming across his chest, and crumpled. A woman stepped forward, her trench coat soaked, cigarette still burning between her lips. The smoker from the lamppost.

“Feds,” she said, flashing a badge. “You’re welcome.”

Liam pinned the thug, panting, and looked up at Elena, confusion melting into relief. She dropped the gun, her knees weak. The Feds had been watching Victor all along—Liam must’ve called them in.

The woman cuffed the thug as sirens wailed in the distance. Liam crossed to Elena, pulling her into his arms. The USB—the real one—was still safe in his pocket. “You okay?” he murmured against her hair.

She nodded, clinging to him. “You?”

“Better now.”

The rain washed away the blood and the fear, leaving only them—two broken souls who’d found each other in the chaos. As the Feds swarmed the scene, Elena kissed him, hard and desperate, tasting rain and redemption. Whatever came next, they’d face it together.