The city never truly slept, and neither did Michael and Hazel Graze.
By midnight, the penthouse had transformed into an impromptu war room. Maps, blueprints, and old case files littered the glass table. Red dots marked Leo Crane's old haunts, abandoned warehouses, and underground clubs that doubled as fronts for illegal trades.
Hazel leaned against the table, barefoot and wearing one of Michael's dark button-ups that fell to her thighs. Her hair was a tangled mess, her eyes sharp and alert.
"You sure he'll show at that dockyard?" she asked, tracing a finger over the map.
Michael stood behind her, his hand resting possessively on her waist as he scanned the intel. "If Leo wants to make a statement, it'll be there. He knows I'm watching."
Connor entered, tossing a file onto the table. "Intel from one of our guys in Southside. Crane's planning a meet tonight — weapons, allies, and a message."
Hazel raised a brow. "A message?"
Connor gave a dry smile. "For you two, apparently. Guess you made quite the impression."
Hazel smirked. "I'm flattered."
Michael's lips quirked into a grin, though his gaze was still sharp. "We hit them before they gather. No speeches. No warnings."
Hazel rolled her eyes. "Typical Graze. No dramatic monologue?"
Michael's voice dropped lower as he moved in closer. "You want drama, Mrs. Graze?"
Hazel tilted her chin, her pulse kicking up. "Maybe."
Before she could blink, Michael's hand slid to the back of her neck, pulling her flush against him. His lips brushed her ear. "After we burn his empire down."
Her breath hitched.
Connor cleared his throat loudly. "For the love of—can you two focus for five minutes?"
Hazel laughed, pulling away reluctantly. "Alright, alright. Let's be professionals."
They geared up quickly, a small, tight team prepped for the raid. Connor handed Hazel a concealed weapon. She took it without hesitation, tucking it into the waistband of her shorts.
"You good?" Michael murmured, his fingers brushing her wrist.
Hazel met his gaze, unflinching. "You forget, Graze — I've survived you. Leo Crane's just a poor imitation."
He chuckled darkly. "God, I love you."
She grinned, leaning up to steal a quick, fierce kiss. "Then don't get yourself killed."
An hour later
The dockyard reeked of salt, oil, and rust. Shadows stretched long under the sickly glow of broken lights. Michael's men moved like ghosts, positioning themselves with practiced precision.
Hazel crouched beside him behind a stack of crates. Her pulse pounded in her ears, but it wasn't fear.
It was the thrill of it.
This was their world now.
Leo Crane emerged from the shadows like a phantom. Broad-shouldered, scarred, with cold eyes that gleamed in the dark. Men flanked him, weapons visible.
Hazel's fingers brushed Michael's, and without looking, he curled his hand around hers for a brief, grounding second.
Michael stepped out first.
"Crane."
Leo smirked. "Graze. I was hoping you'd bring your little wife."
Hazel stepped forward, head high. "Funny — I was hoping you'd be taller."
Leo laughed, a rough sound. "I underestimated you. That's on me."
Michael's eyes were pure steel. "And you're about to pay for it."
In the next heartbeat, chaos erupted.
Gunfire cracked through the air. Men shouted, ducking behind crates and barrels. Hazel moved fast, covering Michael's flank, her aim sharp, her blood singing.
Leo ducked behind a container, barking orders.
Michael's voice rang out. "No survivors."
Hazel grinned wickedly.
"That's my husband."
They fought side by side — a deadly, beautiful storm.
And as the final shots rang out, and the dockyard fell eerily silent, Hazel approached the trembling figure of Leo Crane, pinned beneath Connor's boot.
"You lose," Hazel said softly.
Leo spat blood, grinning despite it. "You think this ends with me?"
Michael crouched beside him, cold fury in his gaze. "It ends with whoever dares touch what's mine."
Leo's smile faltered.
A single shot echoed through the dockyard.
And it was over.
**
Back at the penthouse, blood washed off and adrenaline fading, Hazel curled up on the sofa with a glass of wine.
Michael sat beside her, watching her with something dangerously tender in his eyes.
"I've never trusted anyone like this," he admitted.
Hazel smiled, leaning against him. "Took you long enough."
He kissed her hair, pulling her close.
"No one touches you. Ever."
Hazel smirked, glancing up. "Getting possessive, Graze?"
Michael grinned.
"Only about you."l...