“Excuse me?” she said, voice sharp enough to cut through the air.“You heard me.” Johnny leaned forward, smirk tugging at the edge of his lips. “I’ll work with you if you let me spank that ass of yours.”The room went dead quiet.Rhea's eyes widened for exactly half a second before narrowing again. "You can't be serious." She said."Dead serious," he echoed, throwing her own words back at her.She stared at him like she was trying to decide whether to laugh, slap him, or arrest him all over again. A long silence stretched between them."You want to spank me," she repeated slowly, as if testing how ridiculous it sounded out loud."One time," Johnny said, keeping his voice casual. "That's the deal. You want my help? That's the price."He held her gaze. He didn’t blink or flinch. He just said it.That was all he needed — one spank — and Silver Crest Holdings would be his. A whole damn company in exchange for one reckless, borderline suicidal favor.Detective Rhea stood there for a long mo

Rhea's smile didn't waver, but Johnny caught the subtle tension in her shoulders.She shifted her weight, the movement making the wine-colored fabric shimmer under the neon light.The hem of her dress rode up just a fraction as she adjusted her stance, and Johnny noticed the bouncer's eyes drop instinctively before snapping back to her face.She had that effect on people."Listen," Rhea said, her voice dropping into something smoother, warmer. "I think there's been a misunderstanding. My husband here made the reservation."She tilted her head toward Johnny, placing a hand on his arm. The touch was light, but it sent a current through him. "Didn't you, babe?"Johnny caught on fast. He stepped forward, sliding an arm around her waist. His hand settled on the curve of her hip, feeling the warmth of her body through the thin fabric.She didn't pull away."Yeah," he said, flashing the bouncer a confident grin. "Name's under Steele. Should be on the VIP list."The bouncer eyed them both and

Johnny couldn't help but feel proud of himself as he grabbed the still-shocked detective by the waist, and followed them behind the velvet curtains.The music behind them faded to a distant pulse as they were led down the narrow dim-light hallway, stretched before them.The the bass from the club above filtered through the ceiling of the hallway like a second heartbeat, and the air down here felt different — cooler, quieter, the kind of quiet that had been arranged rather than arrived at naturally.Rhea took a deep breath, her mind racing. She contemplated whether to call for backup. Everything about this screamed trap.But when she turned to Johnny, the quiet confidence in his eyes steadied her nerves. Somehow, this reckless idiot made her believe they’d be fine. At the end of the hallway, a tall double door waited. The waiter knocked twice—sharp, deliberate taps.“Enter,” a low voice answered from within.The door opened, and the scent of cigar smoke and expensive whiskey flooded th

The walls weren’t painted but tiled in white, though most of them had long since been stained—splashes of red and brown that no amount of scrubbing could erase.The room was vast, stretching farther than the flickering lights could reach, filled with metallic tables—some bare, others occupied.The stainless steel gleamed beneath the harsh fluorescence, but even that couldn’t hide the streaks of red that ran down the legs and pooled on the floor.There were people working here—men and women in surgical robes and masks, their faces hidden, their movements mechanical.They moved from one table to the next, performing silent routines as if they were pieces of a larger machine. Scalpels clinked against metal trays. A suction machine whined softly in the corner.Johnny’s eyes swept the room. There were coolers—industrial-grade, labelled not with organs but with codenames, like Project Argus, Batch 14, N-Host 02. A faint mist rose from one that had been left open, a gloved hand reaching insid

“Rhea, I don’t know what you think is going on, but I swear—you’ve got it all wrong.”Johnny’s hands were up, palms open, voice trembling between exhaustion and disbelief.“Don’t you dare call me by my first name, you vile monster!” she snapped.“Monster?” Johnny’s brows drew together. “I’m on your side.”“On my side?” Rhea barked a laugh, sharp and humorless. “That was before I found out you’re a human organ-harvesting surgeon.”Her gun didn’t waver. The barrel glinted under the cold fluorescent light.Valentine Orlov just stood there, silent amusement plastered across his face like he was watching a live theater performance—his favorite kind, where everyone bleeds in the final act.“I’m not the Surgeon,” Johnny shouted back, voice cracking through the thick air. “For God’s sake, you have to believe me!”“There’s no point in lying,” she said, her tone firm but her hands trembling slightly. “I’ve seen enough. You’re not walking away from this.”“What?” Johnny blinked, trying to wrap hi