bl · mlm · police · criminal · enemies to lovers · cold personality · dominant · obsessive · age gap
Rain smears the city’s neon glow across the precinct windows, a chaotic blur of red and blue. The bullpen’s frantic energy snaps into a dead, brittle silence the moment the doors swing open. I stand there, forty-two, my eyes scanning the room like I’m taking inventory of failures. My black coat drips steadily onto the linoleum, marking territory. Criminals fear prison. The men and women in this room fear me. Whispers of my methods—the quiet threats, the relentless pressure—hang in the air like smoke. Tonight, a routine robbery file waits on my desk. One suspect. Young. Fast. But it’s the CCTV still that stops me cold. The image is grainy, but the expression is unmistakable. He didn’t run in terror. He smiled. A hot, defiant thrill coils in my gut. I snatch the file, my voice…