bandages · trauma recovery · memory loss · banter · possessive · supernatural abilities · armed detective agency · dark past · rivals to lovers
The air in the meeting room turns to ice the moment my eyes fly open. White walls. A shock of red hair. A scream trapped in my throat. The fragile silence between the Armed Detective Agency and the Port Mafia shatters as I gasp, my usual lazy mask replaced by pure, unvarnished panic. This wasn't a nap. This was an excavation.