Janet stared at the medium-sized framed picture in her hand—a picture of herself and a little girl. She had only just placed dinner on the table after getting back from work. She hadn't cared to see Cas; she was still furious with how he'd downplayed her effort earlier.
She'd gone to the office that morning just to secure an emergency leave—which would approve her absence for two weeks. As much as she hated Cas's guts, he'd been right about her poor self-defense skills. Still, she couldn't understand why he even cared.
Her gaze returned to the photo. She traced her thumb over the little girl's smiling face.
"A little more time…Grace," She whispered, pressing the frame against her chest and holding back tears. "Just a little more time."
A gentle knock broke her thoughts. Janet stilled. It could only be one person, Cas.
She turned the picture, face down on the bedside table and called out, "Coming."
She took her time purposely to keep him waiting, and slipped into a short loose satin nightgown draped over her bare body— and opened the door.
Cas stood there, bare-chested, no tattoos in sight, wearing only a pair of dark joggers. He must have retrieved them from the laundry room while she was gone. Her eyes lingered a moment too long—the faint outline pressing through the fabric, the joggers hung low, revealing the sharp V of his abdomen. Her gaze traveled up—his abs, his chest, his thick neck—until it met his eyes. That same dark intensity, as though they could see straight into her soul.
"Had your fill?" he asked.
Janet blinked, snapping back to herself. She crossed her hands, lifting her chin. "What do you want, Cas?"
"You could've told me you were back."
She scoffed "What? You missed me?"
"Maybe."
His eyes dropped to her thighs and suddenly the night gown felt shorter than it had a minute ago. Janet curled her toes into the rug.
"You realize it's common sense to alert the person you live with when you're home," Cas said calmly, "Especially with the situation we've got going."
Janet rolled her eyes. Mr hyper vigilant. "No one else has keys. Duh."
"I know a couple of good lock pickers." he shot back.
Janet sighed. "What do you want?"
His gaze swept all over her body again, slow and unapologetic, before settling on her face. He smirked. "I ordered pizza."
That caught her off guard. "Pizza?"
"Don't like eating alone."
"O…oh.uhm." She hesitated. She'd already had dinner at the office but had left him prawn-and-shrimp salad in the fridge with a note. Maybe he just hadn't been in the mood.
"I'll be right out," she said quietly.
He turned already walking away. "Love the satin." he tossed over his shoulder.
Janet looked down at the wine-red slip skimming her body, Its V-neckline, thin straps, and open tie-back design felt too bare for something as simple as pizza with him. With a sigh, she grabbed her glasses, just in case they ended up watching something on TV.
* *
Janet eyed the four men spread across her living room and the two at her dining table. All sturdily built, their sheer presence filled the space.
The pair at the dining table looked almost identical—about 5'11, in blue fitted long-sleeved T-shirts. Brown low cut, round brown eyes, slightly crooked noses, thin lips. One wore a bandage across his nose but Janet figured it was the same shape beneath.
Twins, she thought, though the way they watched her made her look away quickly.
The four in the living room were less alike. One, stocky at 5'9, shifted in his leather jacket. A patch covered one eye, the other a narrow gray slit. Next to him lounged a younger man—maybe 6ft—a backwards cap hiding his buzzcut, an AirPod in one ear, a polo shirt and baggy jeans, tattoos crawling down both arms. His amber eyes flicked over her with lazy interest, easy smile. Cute and careless in his air.
By the entrance stood the last two, 6'5 and bald—leaned against the wall like they owned it. Not twins but close enough in build and posture. One carried a mustache, the other was clean-shaven. Their eyes hid behind shades but Janet still felt their gaze; their lips were heavy, noses flat and straight. One wore a dark grey singlet with black jeans, his tattoos snaking up from his shoulders to his neck. The other had a black vest under a gray hoodie with matching joggers.
Janet's fingers tightened around her coffee cup. She texted her sister as if the message might speed up her arrival.
They had come that morning, just as Cas had said, hauling supplies and fresh clothes for him. Cas had gone inside to sort through them, leaving her with the silence of his men. She sipped on her coffee, unsure what to say. Cas hadn't even introduced them yet.
Her mind drifted back to last night, when Cas had invited her for pizza. He seemed to like it too much. They had surface-level conversations, until he asked her why she became a lawyer, he laughed at her reason which was to put criminals in their place considering he was a drug lord. Ironic. Later, he put on a crime documentary, as though to test her nerves. She had had enough of the violence when she yawned, hinting to him that she was ready to go to bed. She rose to leave, but Cas had stopped her with her name.
"This isn't child's play."
She had only exhaled and said "Good night, Cas." Then disappeared into her room.
**
Cas tightened his bootlaces and stepped into the living room.
Janet was with an older woman, whom he recognized from court. The one who had presented his call with Jack as evidence. Taller and plumper than Janet, with long black hair and sharp green eyes. No family resemblance. She had regular clothes on, but he'd bet she had a gun and badge tucked somewhere close. She gave him a suspicious stare, she didn't look like she would trust him anytime soon.
Two more faces he didn't know. A striking young girl, with brown hair and matching eyes—probably tagging along. The man was about 5'11, light brown low cut, blue eyes—and a look he suspected was less about duty and more about Janet.
There was tension in the air, cops on one side, his world on the other.
Cas didn't care. He broke the silence, his voice steady and flat.
"These are my men."
He gestured toward the dining table "Cory and Tower.
The patch wearer. "Max."
The one in the backward cap. "Kratos."
By the entrance. "Dylan and Sin."
Janet's sister motioned to her side. "Amira and Cole."
Cole's glare met his, steady. Cas only smirked, slow and deliberate. Competition was a language he spoke fluently. And he never lost.
* *
"Two of my men will hit the casino tonight," Cas said. "Ask questions. Quiet ones. About a secret room, VVIP specials. Nothing else." "One of mine will go with one of yours in daylight. Blend in. No guns and badges. No hint of a cop in the room."
Mirabel jumped in. "Why no guns? Isn't that a risk?"
"Not when you're seen with a regular. My man Kratos is well known at the Diamond. He walks in clean."
"And if I don't trust my man to walk in clean." She pressed.
Cas sighed. "Because Guns are banned in the Diamond. We'll work on a plan to sneak them in later. Until then, no guns."
Janet spoke up, almost out of nowhere. "So, what do the rest of us do?"
Cas looked at her, curious why she wanted in so badly. Holding her gaze, he said, "Nothing, let the ones asking questions find answers first. Then we move." He turned to his men "No mistakes."
"Yes boss." they echoed.
A shift in the room caught him—Cole leaning close to Janet. She smiled, her brown eyes lighting up at something he said. He eyed them intensely, a familiar sensation of envy creeping into his mind. He blurted out before he knew it acting out of emotion rather than logic which was unlike him. "Janet."
She looked up, Cole did too but Cas didn't spare him a glance.
"Let's practice guns today."
She showed a mix of surprise and excitement in her immediate reaction.
Cole spoke up. "Oh that's no problem… I'll tea—"
"I'll teach her," Cas cut in.
Cole squared his shoulders "What is your.." Janet touched his arm, defusing him.
"It's okay. It's no big deal."
"I know. I just don't trust a criminal with a gun around a woman."
Cole smiled, slow and sharp. "Believe me, there's plenty I could have done to a woman in two nights without a gun."
He watched the frustration twist Cole's face. Enjoyed it. His gaze slid back to Janet, she was his, and soon he'd make that clear.
"Cory. Tower. You're on the Diamond tonight."
Cas ordered.
Mirabel didn't hesitate, "Amira goes with Kratos during the day."
**
Janet and Cas arrived at the gun training academy. The pass, courtesy of Mirabel. The room smelled faintly of gunpowder and disinfectant. Targets lined the far wall, paper silhouettes clipped to rails with only one buzzing, sliding back and forth. Empty, quiet.
Janet heard Cas's footsteps follow after her, as she settled into one of the marked lanes. She turned, smiling.
Not bad."
"Mmmhmm."
Cas said still observing around the room, she wondered what he was looking for. She walked over to the rack, picked five bullets, and returned to her spot. Cas reached her just as she fumbled with them.
"I'll put that together for you."
She smiled. "Awwn, such a gentle man."
Cas scoffed and shot her a side look, that familiar, dangerous charm slipping out."You're about to find out how much of a gentleman I can be."
"Well," Janet teased, poking his arm gently. "It's always a delight to bring out your playful side."
The gun was ready. The paper silhouette slid back and forth with a buzz. Cas stepped behind her, close, monitoring her. She aimed and fired—missed.
Reloading for another shot, she felt him at her ear, his voice low,
"Legs apart."
Her body obeyed though before her mind caught up. He stood an inch away, yet she felt him everywhere.
"Shoulders straight."
His hands adjusted her —firm, steady— grazing her sides, brushing too close to her breasts, before guiding her arms into line. Her insides clenched. Was he doing this on purpose? Or was it really just training? His scent filled the air—clean, dark, intoxicating.
"Focus," he murmured, voice close enough to feel.
She narrowed her eyes behind the glasses and aimed. Cas gently dropped his hands, but stayed right behind her.
"Ready?"
She nodded.
"Shoot."
The shot struck the target's shoulder. Still, she felt triumphant.
"Good job," Cas said softly, "but it's not done yet till you take the head."
She turned and nearly collided with him. His face was close, eyes sharp, fixed on hers. She forced herself to look away, reloaded, and aimed again.
"A practical way to aim," he said, voice a low drag across her neck. "Imagine your enemy."
She thought of HENNEDY. The gun cracked—the bullet split the target's head.
Before she could react, Cas leaned in, his breath hot against her neck.
"Good girl."
Her knees weakened. His hands braced the lane on either side, caging her in. His body pressed forward— hard, hot, deliberate. She didn't move away. Couldn't.
His lips found her neck. Janet whimpered before she could stop herself.
"Maybe I should taste what makes you so stubborn, lawyer," he murmured.
She tried to turn, but he caught her chin, lifting it until her lips hovered inches from his. His gaze burned into her, dark and certain. She didn't know what she was begging for—only that she was.
"Cas…I…"
He silenced her with his mouth. The kiss was hot and slow, yet rough — his tongue sliding in, taking, claiming. Janet froze for a heartbeat, then melted, giving in with nothing but a soft moan as she gave in to his kiss completely.