Victoria Jones was a highly skilled detective, renowned in her precinct for solving cases with the snap of her fingers. Yet, there was one case that eluded her grasp: the notorious Xavier Clarke, a figure steeped in the shadows of the mafia.
Every time she got close to capturing him, he slipped away like smoke. Today, however, she had a lead. "Rose, do you have his location?" Victoria asked through the intercom, her pulse quickening with anticipation.
"Yeah, he's close to you," Rose replied.
"Okay, I'm going in," Victoria said, steeling herself as she entered the dimly lit building.
As she stepped inside, she caught sight of a familiar shadow, one she had studied for years. "Xavier Clarke! Hands behind your back!" she commanded, her voice echoing off the walls.
He raised his hands slowly, a confident smile creeping across his face. "Ah, the beautiful detective herself," Xavier greeted her, his tone teasing.
"Don't you dare call me that!" Victoria shot back, irritation flaring in her chest.
With determination, she moved closer, cuffing him with practiced ease. "Xavier Clarke, you are under arrest for murder and drug trafficking," she declared, her voice steady despite the thrill of the moment.
They emerged from the warehouse, the chill of the night air wrapping around them as a police car pulled up. "Get in," Victoria said firmly, pushing him inside.
Fifteen minutes later, they arrived at the precinct. Victoria led Xavier to an interrogation room, her mind racing with the possibilities.
"Who is your boss?" she asked, locking her gaze onto his.
Xavier leaned back, a cocky grin on his lips. "Me, of course."
Victoria's eyes narrowed. "Liar."
He rolled his eyes, unfazed. "I'm going to ask again—who is your boss?" she pressed, her frustration simmering just below the surface.
Xavier shrugged nonchalantly. "Same answer."
"We saw you talking to someone," Victoria continued, her voice hardening. "You said 'Yes, sir' to him."
Xavier leaned back in his chair, his smile widening. "That was my father."
She clenched her fists, feeling a bead of sweat trickle down her neck. The room felt stifling, and she couldn't help but notice the way Xavier's eyes followed the path of her discomfort.
He gave her a lazy once-over, licking his lips. "You look a little... tense, Detective. What's the matter?"
Victoria ignored the heat rising in her cheeks and stood up, abruptly leaving the room. She needed space, and more importantly, she needed to clear her head. He's just playing with you. She cursed under her breath as she entered the lounge, grabbing two bottles of water.
Returning to the interrogation room, she tossed one of the bottles onto the table in front of him. "Here. Drink."
"I can't exactly open it like this," Xavier said, lifting his cuffed wrists with an exaggerated shrug.
Victoria rolled her eyes. With a huff, she went to grab a straw and popped it into the bottle, shoving it toward his face. "Drink it."
Xavier smirked, leaning forward to take a slow sip through the straw, his eyes locked onto hers the entire time. "Acts of service, huh? I didn't think you had that in you."
She barely resisted the urge to smack the smug look off his face. "You want more water or not?"
Xavier grinned and leaned back. "You're tense because you're losing control, aren't you? Don't worry—it's not just the case getting under your skin now."
