1
VICTORIA
The city was already stirring as Victoria Langley ran down Lincoln Avenue. Delivery trucks rumbled by, their engines growling, while the occasional honk of an impatient driver broke through the soulful and raw vocals of Stevie Nicks blasting in her headphones. Her legs burned with the effort, but she pushed harder, dodging a stray cyclist making a sudden left turn. Steadying her breath, Victoria inhaled the aroma of fresh bread wafting from Lavender’s up ahead and the mingling sharp tang of diesel fumes from a passing truck.
Running had always been Victoria’s favorite part of her morning routine. That and her latte from the fancy espresso machine she’d bought last year. Two miles in the morning and one latte were the perfect one-two punch to wake her up. This had been her ritual every day for the last 40 years. When she’d hit puberty, her father had decided she needed something to put all that energy into, and as a decorated colonel in the army, he stuck with what he knew - pushing physical limits. He’d dragged her out of bed every morning before school and ran with her, barking at her to keep pace. She’d hated it at 15, but now it was the most sacred part of her day.
As she rounded the corner on Jefferson, her headphones suddenly shrilled as her phone rang, slicing through the morning noise. She kept her stride as she accepted the call on her watch, “Langley here.”
“Captain. We have a situation.”
Victoria huffed as she closed in on the last quarter mile. “What situation? Collins, it better be important if you’re calling me at 4 a.m.”
Lieutenant Darcy Collins huffed a laugh as she retorted. “It’s important enough for me to already be at this god-forsaken place.”
A familiar dread curled in Victoria’s gut. She slowed as her townhouse came into view. Phoenix Ridge had its share of crime - enough to keep her Criminal Investigations Division busy - but this felt different. The weight in Collins’ voice said it all.
“Shit,” she muttered. “Let me have it.”
“There’s been a kidnapping. A 16-year-old female. Chloe Harper. Happened late last night, or rather, this morning. Victim’s mother just called it in.”
Victoria slowed to a near stop, the name tugging at her memory like a warning bell.
“Harper?” Victoria’s brow furrowed as she halted midstride. “You mean the daughter of Lily Harper - the multi-millionaire tech CEO?”
“Yep. That’s the one.”
A chill ran down her spine, cutting through the sweat from her run. High-profile cases like this didn’t just disrupt mornings - they wrecked careers, reputations, and lives. Chloe Harper wasn’t just a victim; she was a headline waiting to explode, and, as Captain, Victoria would be standing at the center of the storm.
Victoria began fumbling with her keys, pushing the heavy oak door open and stepping into the calm, meticulously ordered space she called home. Her townhouse was a blend offunction and elegance - sleek hardwood floors gleamed under soft recessed lighting, and minimalist furniture in neutral tones gave the space an air of control. A single black and white photograph of her parents on their wedding day hung above the entryway table, the only personal touch in an otherwise pristine environment. Even in a rush, she kicked off her muddy running shoes and placed them neatly on the mat by the door. Disorder wasn’t just an annoyance; it was unthinkable.
“Shit. Who knows?”
Her chest tightened as she rusted inside, her mind already racing through the implications. Her townhouse, usually a sanctuary, felt stifling as she bee-lined towards her bathroom. She tossed her sweaty clothes into the laundry room without stopping. The scent of lavender cleaner lingered in the air, a sharp contrast to the chaos brewing in her head. Chloe Harper wasn’t just another victim. She was a powder keg of media scrutiny and high corporate stakes, and it had just landed in Victoria’s lap
Lieutenant Collins sighed, her voice steady but heavy. She could read the real question behind what Victoria asked.
“The media hasn’t caught wind of it yet,” Darcy reassured, her words a small anchor against Victoria’s spiraling thoughts.
Victoria exhaled sharply, a brief but fragile relief. “Good. Keep it that way,” she muttered as she entered the bathroom.
She twisted the shower knob, the pipes groaning momentarily before hot water surged through the showerhead, filling the space with a thin mist. Stripping off her remaining clothes, she stepped under the spray, the heat biting into her skin. It was scalding, almost unbearable, but she didn’t flinch. She braced her hands against the cool tiles, letting the water hammer her back, trying to drown out the relentless churn of her thoughts.
Collins’ voice echoed in her mind as Victoria replayed her words. “The only people who know so far are the operator, the responding officer, me, and now you.”
She pressed her forehead against the slick wall, the tile cool against her skin. The heat and steam clawed at the tension in her muscles, but her mind refused to follow suit. The name Harper ricocheted in her head, dredging up every headline she’d ever read about Lily and her empire. The stakes weren’t just high - they were astronomical.
Victoria pushed off the wall, tilting her head back as the water streamed over her face, washing away the sweat from her run but leaving the weight of responsibility untouched. She scrubbed her hands through her hair, inhaling sharply.
“Twenty minutes,” she told herself, her voice low but firm, as if saying the words out loud would make them true. She straightened and grabbed the soap, her movements brisk and efficient. No time to think. No room for doubt. Chloe Harper’s life depended on it.
Victoria stepped out of the shower, steam curling around her like smoke, and grabbed a towel. She wrapped it tightly around herself as she padded back into the bedroom, already calculating the next steps in her mind.
Later, Victoria swung her silver SUV into the precinct’s parking lot, the tires crunching over gravel before she eased into a spot near the building. She could walk to work in ten minutes flat, but that wasn’t an option today. Her car was her lifeline - a mobile command center, a shield, and an escape route all rolled into one.
The engine hummed softly as she cut it off, the dashboard clock glowing at 4:37 a.m. Victoria reached for her travel mug in the cupholder, the last few sips of her latte still warm. She took a moment, gripping the mug tightly in both hands as she let the car’s quiet cocoon surround her. Inhaling one long, deepbreath to ground herself, the soft scent of leather filled her lungs, calming her. Victoria’s gaze flicked to the building ahead. Through the large glass windows, she could see the faint glow of fluorescent lights and shadows of the overnight shift moving inside.
She exhaled sharply and placed the mug back into the cupholder. Her vivid blue eyes stared back at her in the rearview mirror - sharp, composed, and unyielding. She smoothly pulled her perfectly highlighted long blonde hair back in a ponytail and tied it neatly at the nape of her neck. She straightened her blazer with a quick tug and reached for her badge, clipping it to her belt. Her sidearm, snug in its holster, was already a comforting weight on her hip.
