Chapter 3

Avery’s POV

“I’m telling you what Sophie told me. This new case is going to be the biggest and baddest. It’s going to be the highlight of our careers.”

Alice’s excited voice digs a deeper pit into my early morning joy, and I find myself growling from between clenched teeth, “Highlight of our careers, my ass.” This is a disaster; to be working on a ‘biggest and baddest’ case barely two weeks after a highly intense one.

And it sucks even more because I’m the only one that feels this way.

I bustle my way up the stairs and head straight to Sophie’s office to confirm this shit news. I knock twice on the door and enter to see the redhead bent over her desk alongside the usual team of field reporters. In spite of myself, I lug my curious self to the desk to see a series of pictures, both of people and of dr*gs of various shapes and appearances.

The sight of the white and yellow substances makes me shudder despite them being just pictures and not because I’m scared of them or anything but because of what they signify.

“Another dr*g case?” I’m not even aware I blurted out the thought until they all raise their heads to stare at me. Sophie’s light-colored eyes flicker in excitement as she hums affirmingly, “Yep. And this time, we’re going for the gold.”

I blink at her, then at the rest of the room that whoops at her words. Are they crazy? We’re talking about taking on another case despite having almost lost our lives and sanity in the previous one. This is why I absolutely loathe working in the field; the exposure to danger tends to interfere with one’s ability to reason, and I’m not only referring to the cases but also on a personal level. I have spent the last two weeks trying to get myself off survival mode, and it hasn’t exactly been an easy thing to do, and now having to re-enter it…

Wait a sec…

I totally forgot we can sit out cases we don’t want, provided we’re able to get another one to fill up. I think back to the case list board downstairs where most low-profile cases are documented, and the reason is that if I take on two or three of those, they should be able to counterbalance my skipping out on this one.

Bingo!

It doesn’t exactly make me happy to take on cases at all, but as long as I get to avoid danger, it’s a win for me. So I reach out to tap Alice and mouth, “Good luck,” to her before announcing, “That’s truly amazing, but I’m afraid I’ll have to sit this one out.”

“Ha-ha… nice try, Avery, but no. You were specially selected for the case,” Sophie wastes no time in dashing my hopes.

I balk, “What? Why?!”

She doesn’t speak immediately, and I begin gushing out before she can, “Look, I’m yet to recover my bearings from Conrad’s case… I can barely stand the sight of sugar, for God’s sake.”

It’s true. The amount of exposure to crack c****ne and angel d*st I received during the last case coverage was so potent I had to go sit in the hospital for a day after he was arrested and take powerful detoxifiers to rid my system of the substances. Granted, it wasn’t my first dr*g crime case, but it was the most intense to date, and if they’re saying this new case is going to be even worse, wouldn’t it make sense to sit it out?

“Besides, since when have I become so invaluable on the field that I get thrown into a case without at least being asked?”

Behind me, Alice sighed, “Avery…”

Sophie shook her head at her and the rest of the team and told them, “It’s fine. You all should return to your desks, though. I think Avery and I need to talk privately.”

Everyone filed out of the room, and in less than a minute, only Sophie and I are left. She gestures for me to sit, and I oblige and watch as she does the same.

We stare at each other for a few seconds, and I can’t help but admire her over again: voluminous auburn tinted hair that hung around her shoulders, bright blue eyes the color of a clear ocean, cheekbones that stuck out and gave her face a seductive look it was famous for and lastly, moon white skin that gleamed under the sharp overhead lighting. Add that to the fact that she stands at six feet and possesses curves that would send butt-lift models back to their doctors… Sophie Clarke is what I imagine the Roman goddess Venus would look like.

But then she’s determined to keep me working on the field for as long as possible, and no amount of eye-soothing beauty is going to make me overlook that.

She leans forward to pick up a picture from the desk and holds it out to me. I’m a bit reluctant to take a look because I don’t want to commit anything about the case to memory, but inherent curiosity wins over, and I glance down just once. And my eyes stay stuck there.

The man in the picture is your typical white male: slicked-down blond hair, green eyes, a straight nose, and angles that seem hewn from stone. He’s seated in a recliner, and there’s a lit cigar in between his fingers, and he stares blankly at the camera like he’s in a Givenchy photoshoot. He’s effortlessly handsome, and the sheer confidence in his pose adds the Alpha to his male… but that’s not what makes me gawk.

It’s the fact that I have most definitely seen him before and up close, too. My mind tries to pick out the exact time and place, but it falls flat. However it is, I know I have definitely seen that guy.

Sophie drops her voice a decibel as she voices out her concern at my reaction, “What’s wrong? Do you recognize him?”

Yes! I’m about to tell, but something tells me that’s not going to be the best idea. I shake my head and wave dismissively, stammering, “N-no. It’s just… he’s so good-looking. Um… who is he?”

“His name is Gaius Frederik, and he’s the biggest dr*g baron in Europe and soon to be America,” she answers, and I hear the inflection of awe in her voice.

I’m still a little stupefied, but in order to avoid more questioning, I try my best to get over myself. I chime, “He sounds like a great guy.”