Chapter 3

Chapter Three Home sweet illegal loft. Hidden cameras, blackout curtains, and a wine fridge full of peach soda and bad decisions. JINX I don't live in a rooftop greenhouse anymore. That was old me. Young, scrappy, barely scraping together enough credits to buy a half-decent EMP grenade. Now? I live in a converted penthouse suite above an abandoned jazz club in the old quarter-because apparently, the universe rewards criminal brilliance with mood lighting and city views. The elevator to my place doesn't exist on any building schematics. I had it rerouted six months ago. The only way to access it is by swiping a very specific access card (mine), pressing the buttons in a certain order (secret), and not dying in the shaft (optional). The door whooshed open into my space and I kicked off my boots with a satisfied grunt. The scent of ozone, citrus, and fresh leather greeted me like a home-cooked meal. Hardwood floors. Industrial windows with blackout shades. Neon signs from a stolen arcade machine buzzing softly in the corner. A giant wall of servers blinked at me from behind a glass divider. My couch was leather, deep brown, stupid expensive, and covered in mismatched pillows that screamed, I own a flamethrower but still want to be cozy. A punch of adrenaline still pulsed through me from the break-in. I shrugged off my jacket, peeled off my gloves, and tossed the stolen folder onto the kitchen island beside a half-eaten croissant and a designer perfume bottle I definitely didn't pay for. My goggles hung around my neck, smudged with soot. Charcoal still streaked my cheek, and my braid was half undone. I looked like a disaster. A hot, victorious disaster. "Lights to low," I called. The neon glowed softer. Ambient jazz started playing-something I coded in as a joke, but now it was tradition. I crossed to the kitchen, popped open a bottle of peach soda, and leaned back against the counter to look at the file. The folder wasn't thick, but it felt heavy. I flipped it open and scanned the contents. Names. Financial transactions. Black market shipments. Surveillance photos. And right in the center- A single image of a man in tactical gear. My man in tactical gear. I didn't know his name yet, but I'd burned his face into memory. That sharp jaw. That "I'm too serious for my own good" glower. The way his voice sounded like he'd been smoking gravel and chasing ghosts. He was in the file. Not just a cop. A target. I let out a low whistle. "Well, aren't you a sexy little complication." I moved to the living room, curled up sideways on the couch, and dragged my laptop over from the coffee table. It booted up instantly, flooding the room with cool white light. Ten minutes later, I had facial recognition running through six underground databases, a burner contact checking into his agency credentials, and a drone warming up in the private launch pad I'd built into the terrace wall. If he was in the system, I'd find him. If he wasn't-well. I love a challenge. But here's the thing that surprised even me: it wasn't about the file anymore. It was about him. There was something in the way he'd looked at me. Not hate. Not even confusion. He looked at me like he wanted to figure me out. And that-God help me-was hot. I liked people chasing me. I didn't usually want them to catch me. But now I wasn't sure. My alarm pinged. Motion sensor. Two streets away. A man matching his build, moving fast, muttering into a comm. I flicked the monitor to follow. There he was. Agent Glowerpants in full post-chase rage, storming back to a blacked-out van and probably planning my demise. I laughed. "Baby, you're going to have to work harder than that." I closed the laptop, picked up the file, and wandered into my bedroom. Black silk sheets. A bed you could drown in. A weapons rack on one wall, three framed paintings I definitely didn't buy legally on the other. I stuffed the file into a floor safe hidden under my nightstand and threw myself back onto the bed. Let the agency panic. Let Agent Glower track me. Let the city play its game. I was Jinx. And I was just getting started.