Chapter 11
VICTORIA
Victoria woke to the faint gray light pressing through the blinds, the room hushed but for the steady rhythm of Isabel’s breathing beside her.
For a moment, she lay still, staring at the ceiling, waiting for the guilt to arrive—waiting for the sharp edge of regret that usually followed when she allowed herself to feel too much.
But it didn’t come.
Instead, there was warmth. Isabel’s arm draped across her waist, her cheek resting against Victoria’s shoulder.
The slow, unguarded rise and fall of Isabel’s chest lulled against her ribs.
Victoria’s throat tightened. She hadn’t woken up like this in years—body spent, heart strangely light, someone pressed against her as if she belonged there.
She turned her head slightly, taking in the tangle of dark hair spread across the pillow, the curve of Isabel’s lips softened in sleep. Beautiful. Infuriating. Dangerous.
Victoria let out a quiet breath. “What are you doing to me?” she whispered, too low for Isabel to hear.
Isabel stirred, her lashes fluttering open. A sleepy smile curved her mouth as she shifted to look up at Victoria. “Morning,” she murmured, her voice husky from sleep.
The word scraped something raw inside Victoria. She hesitated, then said softly, “I haven’t…done this in a long time. Waking up with someone.”
Isabel’s smile gentled, curious but patient. “Yeah?”
Victoria swallowed, eyes fixed on the ceiling again.
“I had someone. Years ago. Diane. She…wanted more than I knew how to give.” She flexed her hand against the sheet, feeling the old ache rise.
“I thought keeping my distance, keeping control, was the right way to protect both of us. But all it did was drive her away.”
The confession burned on her tongue, but once it started, she couldn’t stop. “I don’t let people in easily. And when I do, it feels…as if I’m losing ground. Like I’m weaker for it.” She forced herself to glance at Isabel, bracing for judgment.
But Isabel only looked at her quietly, her gaze steady, her touch grounding where her hand still rested on Victoria’s stomach. “You’re not weak,” she said, her voice firm but low. “Letting someone close doesn’t make you weak. It makes you human.”
Victoria closed her eyes briefly, the words sinking deep. When she opened them again, Isabel was closer, her lips brushing Victoria’s in a kiss that was gentle and reverent. Victoria let herself melt into it, the kind of kiss that stripped away her defenses and left her bare.
When they broke apart, Victoria rested her forehead against Isabel’s. “We can’t—people can’t know. Not yet.”
Isabel arched a brow, smirking faintly. “You mean the captain and the new detective sneaking around? Yeah, that might raise a few eyebrows.”
“More than a few,” Victoria muttered, though the corner of her mouth twitched. She sobered quickly. “But I mean it. If anyone finds out, it will put everything at risk—this case, our reputations, our careers. We keep this…between us.”
Isabel studied her for a long moment, then nodded. “Fine. Our little secret.” Her smirk softened into something warmer. “But you’re not getting rid of me that easily.”
Victoria’s chest ached at that—half fear, half relief. She didn’t know where this path would lead, but for the first time in years, she wanted to follow it.
Victoria sat behind her desk, the soft glow of the computer screen painting her face in pale light. The precinct outside her office hummed with its usual rhythm—phones ringing, footsteps crossing tile, voices trading clipped updates—but she barely heard it.
Her fingers hovered over the keyboard, but her focus drifted, unspooling in ways she hadn’t let herself in years. She caught herself smiling at nothing, at no one—just the memory of Isabel’s lips against hers that morning, the warmth of her body curled against her.
Without thinking, she raised her hand to her mouth, brushing her fingertips over her lips as though she could still feel Isabel there. A low exhale slipped from her chest.
She shouldn’t have been surprised. Isabel Torres was young, bold, reckless—the kind of detective who threw herself at danger headfirst. But the way she looked at Victoria, the way she wanted her with such fire and certainty…
Victoria had never imagined someone like Isabel would choose her.
Not with her walls, her age, her scars. And yet, she had.
And Victoria liked it. More than she dared admit even to herself.
The shrill ring of her desk phone cut through her reverie, jolting her back into her chair. She cleared her throat, straightening, pressing the smile from her face before lifting the receiver.
“Captain Langley.”
A pause, then the automated operator voice: You have a collect call from Phoenix Ridge State Correctional Facility. Do you accept the charges?
Victoria’s eyes narrowed. “Yes.”
The line clicked, static hissing for a moment before a familiar, nervous voice came through.
“Captain? It’s me. Listen—I heard the cabin was empty when you got there.” The words tumbled out fast, tight with panic. “But I swear to you, I didn’t lie. I told you everything I knew. No one outside the syndicate even knew about that cabin.”
Victoria leaned back in her chair, her hand tightening around the receiver. “Calm down. Start from the beginning.”
“I—I just… I’ve been hearing things. In here.” The woman’s breath hitched, as though she kept glancing over her shoulder. “People talking about a dirty cop. Somebody in the syndicate’s pocket. I don’t know who, but they said it’s someone close to you.”
Victoria’s spine went rigid. Her free hand curled into a fist against the desk. “Do you have a name?”
“No. Just… just whispers. But enough to scare me.” The informant’s voice cracked. “I gave you that tip because I wanted out. I wanted the deal you offered me. Don’t let them say I played you. I didn’t. You have to believe me.”
Victoria’s jaw tightened, the weight of her words pressing in like a vise. “I hear you. Stay safe. And if you hear anything else—anything—you call me immediately.”
“Yes, Captain.” Relief and fear tangled in the woman’s tone. The line clicked dead.
Victoria lowered the receiver slowly, staring at the phone as though it might ring again. Her pulse thudded heavy in her ears. A dirty cop. Someone close.
Her eyes flicked toward the glass wall of her office, scanning the bullpen beyond—the detectives at their desks, the steady rhythm of her department at work.
And for the first time in years, she felt a chill settle in her chest.
Victoria didn’t let the silence linger long. She straightened in her chair, grabbed the receiver again, and punched two extensions in quick succession.
“Detective Torres. Lieutenant Darcy. My office. Now.”
Minutes later, the two women stepped inside.
Isabel looked sharp but wary, a file still in her hand.
As always, Darcy carried herself with no-nonsense precision, her boots sounding heavy against the floor.
Victoria shut the door behind them, the quiet click sealing the room from the bullpen’s noise.
Both women looked at her expectantly. Victoria stayed standing, her arms crossed, her gaze sweeping over them once before she spoke.
“I just received a call from one of our informants at Phoenix Ridge Correctional,” she began, her voice level but clipped. “She’s the one who gave us the location of the cabin.”
Darcy frowned. “The one that turned out to be cleared?”
“Yes. And she swears she didn’t lie.” Victoria’s eyes flicked from one to the other, gauging their reactions. “According to her, no one outside the syndicate even knew that cabin existed. But somehow, they knew we were coming.”
Isabel stiffened. “You’re saying someone tipped them off.”
Victoria’s jaw worked. She gave a short nod. “She heard talk inside about a dirty cop. Someone in this department, in the syndicate’s pocket.”
The weight of the words hung between them, pressing down on the small office until even the hum of the fluorescent lights seemed too loud. Darcy’s mouth tightened into a grim line. Isabel’s grip on her file whitened her knuckles.
Victoria uncrossed her arms, bracing her hands against the edge of her desk.
“This doesn’t leave this room. Not yet. The last thing we need is a panic—or worse, a leak to whoever’s feeding information.
” Her gaze hardened, sweeping over them both.
“I want the two of you to handle this quietly. Dig, watch, question—but do it under the radar. No one else knows. Understood?”
Darcy gave a curt nod. “Understood, Captain.”
Isabel hesitated, her dark eyes locking with Victoria’s. “Yeah. Understood.”
Victoria straightened, her voice firm. “Good. Then find me my mole.”