Two cases. Ten years apart. One truth that was buried to protect the wrong men. ⋆⭒˚ 𓍝｡⋆ Ophelia receives her promotion: from ground officer to detective, and she feels like she's on the moon, her dreams finally coming to reality. But with her dreams came her nightmares, thoughts that had been persecuting her since she was a teen, racing thoughts she wanted to stop. Now assigned to the disturbing case of a suspicious nightclub, she uncovers a network of predatory men tied to her own past and must confront the corruption, silence, and guilt that was the fuel to those racing thoughts before they ran over another victim.

He laughed at it and leaned in to peck her cheeks. "The cat's got your tongue now?" he said, and she felt every single vibration of his vocal cords for how deep his voice sounded. "Don't worry then. From now on, no rap verses, but only clear messages with distinct words... and actions," and with the final words, he kissed her neck, trailing down to her collarbone. "Those words apply to you, too." "I don't speak in rap verses," she rebutted, noticing that he'd switched the positions, having her back against the wall. "Yeah, you don't. You don't speak at all. You just look at me with those eyes." As he spoke, he angled her chin upwards so their eyes could meet, and when she visibly blushed, he chuckled. "Damn, you're so pretty." He barely let out those words before leaning closer and kissing her. ───❀ In which, Daphne moves from the city to the countryside; objectively, a downgrade, but, emotionally, an upgrade. From the urban chaos straight into his warm sheets. "𝐀𝐦𝐨𝐫, 𝐓𝐚𝐦 𝐏𝐮𝐥𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫 (est quam gardeniae)" "Love is as beautiful as gardenias", a love story by silverozy