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I exhale slowly, glass now empty. Tomorrow, it begins again—the chase, the hunt, the dance with darkness that keeps my blood racing and my heart alive. For now, I’ll enjoy this quiet rebellion, this rare peace that feels anything but peaceful.

Because in my world, calm is just the silence before the storm—and I’m always ready to strike.

Chapter 3

Seanna

Sleepisoverratedanyway.

At least, that's the lie I feed myself as I stride through my cabin just before dawn, yanking on boots and shrugging into my jacket in the near-darkness. Restlessness kicked me out of bed long before sunrise had a fighting chance, my mind tangled in knots, refusing even the briefest respite. Sleep? Not today—not with all the chaos swirling relentlessly in my brain.

Catching a glance in the mirror, I smirk at my reflection. Even with minimal sleep, I still look ready to cut someone down—long, dark hair piled into a tight bun, blue eyes sharp enough to pierce steel. Good enough. Hell, better than good enough.

The rich, bitter scent of coffee fills the kitchen as I pour the steaming dark roast into my travel mug, inhaling deeply. Coffee isn't a luxury; it's survival—especially when the job involves dragging information out of reluctant cartel assholes like Diego. I’m practically buzzing with anticipation at the thought of breaking him.

My phone buzzes suddenly, startling me just enough to annoy me. My mother’s name flashes across the screen, and I sigh—she always manages to call precisely when I'm at my edgiest. Must be some twisted motherly sixth sense.

"Morning, Mom," I say, leaning against the counter and bringing the phone to my ear.

"Good morning, sweetheart," she replies, voice warm, soothing, entirely too pleasant for this ungodly hour. "Your dads and I were wondering if you'd join us for breakfast at the main house."

I glance at the clock, already knowing my answer but making a show of pretending to consider it. "Thanks, but not today. I've got a date with an interrogation room and a stubborn bastard who doesn’t know when to quit."

She laughs softly, knowing better than to argue. "Everything okay, Seanna? This case seems to have you wound pretty tight."

"I'm always wound tight," I quip dryly, swirling the coffee in my mug. "You should worry more if I'm calm. But yeah, it's been a pain in the ass. How are things at home?"

"Good. Actually, we're heading to Chicago today—just a routine investigation," she adds quickly, preempting my instinctive worry. "But there’s something else—about your sister."

My brows lift sharply, instantly suspicious. "Hydessa? What's she done now? Alphabetize the file cabinet wrong?"

Mom chuckles, amused. "She found something online, a blog we think is worth investigating. Honestly, it would be good for her to handle it personally—get her out from behind that fortress of paperwork."

I snort, skepticism practically radiating from me. "Have you told her this grand idea yet? Because we both know she'll wiggle out of it faster than you can say 'fieldwork.'"

"Not yet," Mom admits with a resigned sigh. "But maybe she'll actually listen if you talk to her. She might take it seriously coming from you."

I roll my eyes dramatically, even though she can't see. "I'll talk to her, but I'm not holding my breath. Knowing Hydessa, she'll just delegate it to one of those eager newbies—like Bodhi or Thorn. She loves handing off responsibility."

Mom hums thoughtfully, clearly planning her next move. "I'll figure something out. It's time she steps up—she’s hidden behind reports long enough. Besides, Max found the blog is being posted from a small island, she could do with the holiday."

"Good luck with that," I mutter dryly, lips quirking into a smirk. "We both know stubbornness runs deep in this family."

"Definitely inherited," she counters, laughter coloring her tone.

"Guilty," I retort, finishing my coffee in one swift gulp and grabbing my keys. "I'll nudge—or shove—her in the right direction. Whatever works."

"Thank you, Seanna," she says softly. "Be careful today."

"Careful is overrated," I tease back, heading toward the door. "But I'll stay alive, at least. Love you, Mom."

"Love you too, sweetheart."

Sliding the phone into my pocket, I step outside, greeted by crisp air scented with pine and damp earth. Climbing into my car, I can't help but dwell on Hydessa. My sister's always been too cautious, content hiding behind routine. Maybe Mom's right—it’s time she learned to embrace a little chaos.

The car roars to life beneath me, headlights slicing through mist as I race away from the quiet sanctuary of my cabin. The conversation with Mom gets tucked neatly away for later—right now, I have a stubborn asshole named Diego to break. Javier Reyes won't topple himself, and today's interrogation will bring me one step closer to finally nailing the bastard.

A satisfied smirk curls my lips as I slam the pedal down, road stretching endlessly ahead.