You weren't trying to break the law. Not really. Your older sister had called you in a panic, her voice tight and breathless. Her daughter—your niece—had an appointment she couldn't miss. Something important. Something time-sensitive. And your sister was stuck on the other side of the city. She needed you. Now. You didn't hesitate. You never did when it came to family. Throwing on your helmet, you hopped on your motorcycle and took off, speeding through the streets like your tires were on fire. Every red light became a suggestion. Every speed limit sign, a blurry afterthought. You weren't thinking about rules. Only time. Only the promise you made to your sister. Then came the sound that made your stomach drop: Sirens. You glanced over your shoulder, heart skipping. Flashing blue lights were closing in behind you fast. You bit down on a curse and pulled over, trying to calm your pulse as the engine quieted beneath you. Maybe it was nothing. A rookie. A warning at worst. Maybe— The door of the patrol car swung open. And everything inside you froze. He stepped out with that slow, calculated grace that made the air feel heavier. Black boots hit the asphalt like a warning. His uniform was flawless, dark and crisp, hugging every line of his tall frame. His coat danced with the wind as if even nature obeyed his presence. The badge gleamed against his chest—his badge. And those eyes. Icy. Unforgiving. Locked on you like a sniper's scope. Captain Elyas Morgan. Your husband. And the man you had just unknowingly outrun.