Stolen Hearts

Chapter 1: the catch

Emma Swan moved like a ghost through the boutique, her movements fluid and practiced. She'd been at this for years, swiping what she needed and vanishing into the night before anyone even noticed she was there. Tonight, her target was a sparkling necklace, its gems catching the dim light as she slid it into her pocket with practiced ease.

The store was quiet, save for the soft hum of the air conditioner and the occasional creak of the old wooden floor. Emma was almost home free when the bell above the entrance chimed. She froze, her heart racing. The sudden intrusion shattered the calm, and Emma's eyes darted towards the door.

In walked Killian Jones, the detective everyone in the city talked about. Tall and imposing, he cut an unmistakable figure. His dark eyes scanned the store with a practiced sharpness, and Emma's breath hitched when those eyes landed on her. The tension in the air thickened instantly.

"Don't move," Killian's voice sliced through the silence with an authoritative edge that made Emma's skin prickle. She was caught. The reality of her situation hit hard as she realized there was no escape this time.

Emma turned slowly to face him, her face a mask of defiance even though her mind was racing. Killian's presence was commanding; the dark trench coat he wore seemed to add weight to his already formidable demeanor. The black glove on his prosthetic hand was a subtle but unmistakable detail, giving him an air of mystery.

"You're not exactly a pro at this, are you?" Killian's tone was a mix of irritation and amusement, as if he'd seen this all before and found it more amusing than threatening.

Emma's fingers twitched, itching to make a move, but she knew better. She was cornered. "Guess I'm just having an off night," she replied, her voice steady despite the adrenaline surging through her veins.

Killian stepped closer, his eyes narrowing as he took in her appearance and the way she tried to play it cool. "Emma Swan, right?" he said, his voice steady and unyielding. He reached into his coat pocket, pulling out a pair of handcuffs with a practiced ease that spoke to years of experience.

Emma's stomach sank as she saw the handcuffs. Her defiant façade cracked slightly. "What's it to you?" she shot back, though she could see the inevitable unfolding before her.

Killian's lips curled into a wry smile. "You're under arrest for theft and a few other charges." He moved with fluid precision, his gloved hand expertly securing the cuffs around her wrists. Emma felt the metal close in, a stark reminder of her predicament.

She struggled briefly but then gave in, her shoulders slumping in resignation. This wasn't just another arrest; Killian's presence made it feel different. The way he carried himself, with a mix of authority and something darker, was unsettling. He wasn't just a cop—he was a force to be reckoned with.

As Killian guided her out of the boutique, Emma took one last look back at the place she'd tried so hard to escape. The night air was cold and crisp, the stars barely visible through the city lights. Emma felt a chill that had nothing to do with the temperature. There was something about this encounter, about Killian Jones, that felt like it was about to change everything.

Killian led her towards his car, the weight of the night settling heavily on Emma's shoulders. The detective's presence was almost tangible, his demeanor both authoritative and intriguing. Emma couldn't shake the feeling that this wasn't just another arrest, that her life was about to take an unexpected turn.

As they drove away from the boutique, Emma stared out the window, her mind racing. What had started as a routine theft was quickly becoming something far more complex. And as the city lights faded into the distance, Emma knew that whatever came next, it was going to be anything but ordinary.