She told me on a Tuesday.

  We were in the greenhouse, repotting lavender that had finally started thriving after weeks of me nearly killing it. The afternoon light was soft through the clean glass, and everything felt normal.

  Comfortable.

  Real.

  Then Gabriella set down her trowel and said, "I need to tell you something."

  The way she said it made my hands stop moving.

  "Okay," I said carefully.

  She took a breath. Held it. Then let it out slow.

  "My father is Chief Detective Luis Vasquez. Head of the organized crime division."

  The words hit me like cold water.

  I stared at her.

  She didn't look away.

  "I'm the police chief's daughter, Garrett. And I know you work for the Fox family."

  My throat went dry.

  The Fox family. Oscar's family.

  She knew.

  She'd known.

  "How long?" I managed.

  "A month," she said quietly. "Maybe more. I figured it out from your hands, your hours, the way you don't talk about work. The way you flinch when sirens go past."

  She stepped closer.

  "I haven't said a word to my father. Not one. And I won't."

  I stepped back.

  Not far. Just enough to breathe.

  "Why?" I asked.

  "Because I hate what they've become," Gabriella said, and there was something fierce in her voice now. "My father's division is supposed to protect people. Instead, they shake down businesses. Take bribes. Look the other way when it suits them."

  Her hands clenched.

  "They're as corrupt as the people they claim to fight. Maybe worse, because they hide behind badges."

  She looked at me directly.

  "I can help you, Garrett. I can help the family. I have access to things you need. Information. Warnings. Protection."

  I felt my pulse hammering.

  "I need time," I said.

  Her face fell slightly. "I understand."

  "Not because I don't trust you," I added quickly. "Because this is... this is big, Gabriella. And I need to think."

  She nodded. "Take the time you need."

  She moved toward the door, then stopped.

  "But Garrett? I meant what I said. I can help. And I want to."

  Then she left.

  And I stood there in the greenhouse, surrounded by plants I'd learned to grow, in a life I'd learned to live.

  Wondering if everything I thought I knew had just shifted under my feet.

  ---

  I found Oscar that evening.

  He was in his office, working through ledgers, sleeves rolled up, tie loosened. The picture of a man who'd been fighting numbers all day and was losing.

  I knocked on the doorframe.

  "You got a minute?" I asked.

  Oscar looked up, saw my face, and set his pen down immediately.

  "Always," he said. "What's wrong?"

  "Can I buy you a drink?"

  Oscar's eyes narrowed slightly. Not suspicious. Concerned.

  "Yeah," he said. "Let's go."

  ---

  We went to a quiet bar three blocks over.

  Not a dive. Not fancy. Just a place where men could talk without being overheard and the bartender knew when to disappear.

  Oscar ordered whiskey. I ordered the same.

  We sat in a back booth.

  "Talk to me," Oscar said.

  I told him everything.

  Gabriella. The library. The greenhouse. The movie. The kiss.

  And then the truth.

  Police chief's daughter.

  Knows I work for the family.

  Wants to help.

  The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  Oscar listened without interrupting.

  When I finished, he took a slow sip of his whiskey.

  "I knew most of that," he said.

  I blinked. "What?"

  "I have people watching you, Garrett. Not because I don't trust you—because you're valuable and I don't want anyone hurting you."

  He set his glass down.

  "My sources said she was connected to a police officer. They didn't say chief. That's... new information."

  He leaned back.

  "But it doesn't change anything."

  "Doesn't change anything?" I repeated. "Oscar, she's—"

  "She's a woman who knows what you do and hasn't run," Oscar said calmly. "She's kept quiet for a month. She's offering help instead of threats."

  He looked at me directly.

  "That's not an enemy, Garrett. That's an opportunity."

  I felt something loosen in my chest.

  "You're not worried?"

  "I'm always worried," Oscar said. "But I'm also practical. If she wanted to burn you, she would've done it already."

  He paused.

  "You said she wants to strike back at the police. At the corruption."

  "Yeah."

  Oscar smiled slightly. "Then let's find out if she means it."

  He raised his glass.

  "Bring her to dinner. Tomorrow night. Luciano's. Seven o'clock. You, me, her."

  "Oscar—"

  "If she's serious," Oscar said, "she'll come. If she's not, she'll make excuses."

  He finished his whiskey.

  "Either way, we'll know."

  ---

  She came.

  Luciano's was the kind of restaurant where the owner greeted Oscar by name and the waiters didn't write anything down because they already knew what you wanted before you ordered.

  Gabriella arrived exactly on time.

  She wore a dark blue dress—simple, elegant, the kind of thing that said she'd put thought into this without trying too hard.

  Oscar stood when she approached.

  "Miss Vasquez," he said, extending his hand. "Oscar Bellamy. Thank you for coming."

  She shook it. Firm. Confident.

  "Thank you for the invitation."

  Oscar gestured to the seat across from him. I sat beside Gabriella.

  The waiter brought wine without asking.

  Oscar poured.

  "To honesty," he said, raising his glass.

  Gabriella raised hers. "To honesty."

  We drank.

  Then Oscar set his glass down and said, "Let's skip the pleasantries. You know what Garrett does. You know who I am. And you're here anyway."

  "Yes," Gabriella said simply.

  "Why?"

  She didn't hesitate.

  "Because my father and his division have become everything they swore to fight. They take bribes. Protect criminals who pay them. Hurt people who can't fight back."

  Her voice stayed calm, but there was steel underneath.

  "I grew up believing the police existed to protect people. Now I know better."

  Oscar nodded slowly. "And you think we're better?"

  "No," Gabriella said. "But at least you don't pretend."

  That landed.

  Oscar almost smiled.

  "Fair," he said. Then: "What do you want?"

  "To help," Gabriella said. "I have access to files. Surveillance reports. Raid schedules. Names of officers on the take and who's paying them."

  She leaned forward slightly.

  "I can give you warnings. Protection. Intelligence you wouldn't get otherwise."

  Oscar watched her carefully. "And what do you want in return?"

  "To be part of this," Gabriella said. "To work with people who don't lie about what they are."

  She glanced at me, then back at Oscar.

  "And to be with Garrett. Honestly. Without hiding."

  I felt my chest tighten.

  Oscar leaned back, studying her.

  "You understand what you're offering," he said quietly. "You're not just helping us. You're betraying your father."

  "My father betrayed everything he taught me," Gabriella said. "I'm just choosing a different side."

  The dinner lasted three hours.

  Oscar asked questions. Gabriella answered.

  She laid out everything—her father's schedule, which officers were dirty, which weren't, how the raids were planned, where the weaknesses were.

  She pulled a folded envelope from her purse and slid it across the table.

  "Moles," she said. "Three men in your organization reporting to my father. Names. Photos. Evidence."

  Oscar opened it. Read slowly.

  His expression didn't change, but I saw his jaw tighten.

  "How long have you had this?" he asked.

  "Two weeks," Gabriella said. "I waited until I could give it to you directly."

  Oscar set the envelope down carefully.

  "There's also a raid being planned," Gabriella continued. "One of your dock operations. They're moving in four days."

  Oscar's eyes sharpened. "Which dock?"

  She told him.

  Oscar nodded once, then said, "I need to be sure."

  Gabriella met his gaze. "Then test me."

  "How?"

  "Saint's Swallow," she said calmly. "Full effect. Forced mode. Ask me anything you want."

  I felt my stomach drop.

  "Gabriella—"

  "It's fine," she said, looking at me. "I want him to know I'm serious."

  Oscar studied her for a long moment.

  Then he gestured to the waiter.

  "We'll need privacy."

  ---

  We moved to a private room in the back.

  Just the three of us.

  I pulled the bottle from my coat—I'd started carrying one everywhere, just in case—and set it on the table.

  Gabriella looked at it, then at me.

  "Will it hurt?" she asked.

  "No," I said quietly. "But you won't be able to lie. Or refuse to answer."

  "Good," she said.

  She drank it without hesitation.

  We waited.

  Thirty seconds.

  I saw the moment it took hold—her shoulders relaxed slightly, her breathing evened out.

  Oscar leaned forward.

  "What's your name?"

  "Gabriella Maria Vasquez."

  "Who is your father?"

  "Chief Detective Luis Vasquez. Head of organized crime division."

  "Does he know you're here?"

  "No."

  "Does he know about Garrett?"

  "He knows someone in the family is making brews. He doesn't know it's Garrett."

  Oscar's eyes narrowed. "What does he know?"

  "That someone is helping you. That there's a chemist. That you've been too successful lately for it to be luck."

  "Does he have a plan to find this chemist?"

  "Yes. He's going to raid your operations until he does."

  Oscar nodded slowly. "And the moles? Are there more than three?"

  "I don't know. Those are the only ones I've confirmed."

  "Why are you helping us?"

  Gabriella's voice stayed calm, but there was emotion underneath now.

  "Because I hate what my father has become. Because the police are as corrupt as anyone they arrest. And because I love Garrett."

  I felt those words hit me like a physical thing.

  Oscar glanced at me, then back at her.

  "This is my question," Oscar said, voice formal now. "Do you intend to betray us to your father, now or ever? You have heard it. Answer."

  "No," Gabriella said immediately. "I will never betray you or Garrett to my father or anyone else."

  Oscar watched her for five more seconds.

  Then he stood and extended his hand.

  "Welcome to the family, Gabriella."

  She stood and shook it.

  The brew released.

  She blinked, took a breath, then looked at me.

  "Are we okay?" she asked quietly.

  I stood, stepped closer, and kissed her.

  Not gently.

  Desperately.

  When I pulled back, I said, "Yeah. We're okay."

  She smiled.

  Oscar cleared his throat.

  "As touching as this is," he said dryly, "we have work to do."

  ---

  Gabriella left an hour later.

  Oscar walked her to the door, shook her hand again, and said, "We'll be in touch."

  Then it was just the two of us.

  Oscar poured more wine, handed me a glass, and sat down heavily.

  "Well," he said. "That was a bombshell."

  I almost laughed. "Yeah."

  Oscar took a drink, then set the glass down.

  "Three moles," he said quietly. "In my crew. Reporting to the police chief."

  He looked at me.

  "I'm going to fix that. But carefully."

  "How?"

  Oscar smiled. Not warmly.

  "I'm going to feed them to Vic."

  I blinked. "What?"

  "I'll redirect them," Oscar said. "Make it look like they're transferring to his operations. Better opportunities. More money."

  He leaned back.

  "They'll report to Vic instead of me. And when the police come for them, they'll hit Vic's territory. Not mine."

  I saw it then.

  The whole shape.

  "And Vic takes the heat," I said.

  "And looks incompetent," Oscar finished. "While I look clean."

  He picked up the envelope again, studied the names.

  "As for the raid Gabriella warned us about," Oscar continued, "I'm letting it happen."

  "What?"

  "If I stop it, her father gets suspicious," Oscar explained. "Wonders how we knew. Starts looking closer at his own people."

  He set the envelope down.

  "But if the raid happens and finds nothing important? Just an empty dock with some minor contraband? Then it looks like bad intelligence on his end. Not a leak."

  Oscar looked at me.

  "Gabriella just gave us something more valuable than weapons, Garrett. She gave us visibility."

  He raised his glass.

  "To the third member of our family."

  I raised mine.

  "To Gabriella."

  We drank.

  And I realized, sitting there with Oscar, that everything had changed.

  We weren't just two men building something anymore.

  We were three.

  Oscar. Me. Gabriella.

  Strategy. Alchemy. Intelligence.

  And together, we were going to burn down everyone who stood in our way.