Victoria’s voice dropped, steady and deliberate. “You don’t want to do this.”
“Back off,” the man barked.
“Okay,” Victoria said softly, lowering her weapon by an inch. “You win. But if you kill a cop, you’ll never make it out of here alive.”
The man’s jaw twitched. His eyes flicked, just once, to the space beside her.
That was all Victoria needed.
A single, precise shot cracked through the air. The man jerked backward, the gun slipping from his hand as he hit the ground hard.
Isabel stumbled free, gasping, her heart hammering so loud she could barely hear.
Victoria was already there, her gun still raised, scanning for movement before holstering it and reaching for Isabel. “You okay?”
Isabel nodded, though her voice came out hoarse. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.”
Victoria’s hand lingered on her arm just a beat longer than necessary before she pulled back, all business again. “Secure the perimeter,” she ordered into her comm. “All units report.”
Static. Then, “We’ve got her. Repeat, Chloe Harper is secure!”
The words hit Isabel like oxygen.
She turned toward the warehouse just in time to see a SWAT officer leading a girl into the open air. Chloe Harper—sixteen, with long chestnut hair half undone from a braid—looked disoriented but alive. Her wide green eyes darted across the scene, taking in the chaos, the flashing lights, the armed officers. She was trembling, but there was a defiant spark in her gaze that said she’d fought to survive.
A collective exhale rippled through the team.
Then came another voice over the comms. “We’ve got Darcy Langley in custody. She was trying to run.”
Isabel looked toward Victoria. The captain’s expression didn’t change, but Isabel saw it—the smallest flicker of relief, of sorrow, of something that went deeper than triumph.
“It’s over,” Isabel said quietly.
Victoria met her eyes, her voice low and certain. “Not yet. But it will be.”
The interrogation room was quiet except for the steady hum of the overhead light.
Darcy sat at the metal table, her wrists cuffed and her shoulders slumped forward. Gone was the confident lieutenant with her easy grin and sharp command. She looked…small now. Shaken. Her hair was a mess, her face blotchy from crying.
Across from her, Victoria stood with her arms crossed, her posture immaculate as ever. Isabel stood just behind her, notebook in hand, though she hadn’t written a single thing down.
For a long moment, no one spoke.
Finally, Victoria broke the silence. “Why, Lieutenant?” Her voice was low and steady but laced with anger that simmered just beneath the surface. “Why betray your badge? Your team?”
Darcy flinched but didn’t look up. “You wouldn’t understand.”
“Try me,” Victoria said sharply.
Darcy’s breath shuddered out. “After my wife left me, I…I started gambling. Just a few bets at first. Then I got hooked. Poker, sports, cards—it didn’t matter. I kept losing. And when I couldn’t pay, they found me.”
“The Iron Fang Syndicate,” Isabel said quietly.
Darcy nodded, tears spilling over now. “They told me I could work off my debt. Just small favors at first—information, access, nothing that seemed like it would matter. Then it got worse. They owned me before I even realized it.”
Victoria’s expression hardened. “You had choices. You could’ve come to me. To Internal Affairs.”
“I was ashamed!” Darcy’s voice cracked. “I thought I could fix it myself. Then they threatened my family—my sister, her kids. I couldn’t let them get hurt because of me.” She looked up then, desperate and pleading. “Captain, please. I’ll give you everything. Names, accounts, meeting spots—whatever you want. Just…talk to the DA. Get me a deal.”
