Diguang Club.

This place looked like something straight out of a European royal palace. Massive, luxurious, all gold trim and velvet walls—it totally lived up to its rep as the swankiest spot in the capital. On the glossy floor tiles, you could just make out a pale, delicate face reflected back.

Slender brows, pink lips, and a teeny-tiny waist anyone could wrap a hand around.

Sophia White’s fair-skinned face twisted slightly, her lips parting just in time for her to let out a sharp—

"Ah—" Her feet slid right out from under her. That tight ponytail of hers swayed with the fall as she instinctively yelped, then clapped a hand over her mouth and landed on the floor with a hard thump, wincing in pain.

"You okay, Boss?"

A familiar voice came from the wall she’d just grabbed for support. Still rubbing her sore backside, Sophia forced herself to sit up straight, trying not to lose her cool. Gritting her teeth, she threw out a smirk and said, "Come on, do I look like someone who can be taken down by a slippery floor? Hurry up."

Her voice was calm but carried that definite no-nonsense tone of authority. While talking, she pushed herself up with some effort, all the while glaring at the puddle on the floor like it was her worst enemy.

Honestly, for a club this flashy, couldn’t they at least keep the restroom floors dry? What if some rich socialite slipped and cracked a hip—bad press much?

Of course, no way was she admitting this tiny mishap was on her. She was Sophia White—the infamous head of the “Hurricane” unit and the best fighter on the whole force, thank you very much. Missing a step over a wet spot? Not her style.

So, yeah, clearly the club's fault.

No sooner had she managed to get that out than her team started dropping down from above, each one landing smoothly behind her. She rolled her eyes skyward and then, voice sharp and focused, gave the order: "Room VIP 9—we go in hard. I’ll head in first. You all stay outside, keep out of sight, and wait for the phone signal. No one gets out. Got it?"

"Got it!" The room practically shook from their unified shout.

She waved them down quickly, signaling for silence. No need to scare the targets off before things even started.Sophia White was pulled straight into the force right after graduating from the academy, thanks to her impressive track record. HQ even set up a special task group named “Hurricane,” with her as the lead, to handle the big cases. As one of the few women on the team—and the only female in Special Ops—Officer White was basically a legend in the department.

Proud of everything she’d built with her own two hands, Sophia adjusted the brim of her cap, straightened up, and strode out of the restroom, heading straight for the target room.

The top floor of the Di Gong club was way more over-the-top than the ones below. All fancy carvings on the walls, a black door stamped with dragons and phoenixes, and three huge gold numbers hanging beside it.

Yep, this is the one. Still, since when were crime rings so freakin’ loaded?

She squinted, a little unsure, pulled the note from her pocket, and double-checked it. VIP Room 9. No mistake.

Three subtle black lines ran down her forehead. No wonder so many people these days were turning to the nightlife scene. Just from the look of this room, the service fees had to be sky-high.

Definitely way more than what a regular cop like her made.

While Sophia's brain was off wandering, deep in some late-stage capitalist rant, the woman inside the room was in her own little world—clueless that trouble was about to knock. She leaned in close to the man beside her, clutching a glass of strong whiskey.

“Ethan, let me toast to you,” Jessica Stack cooed, her dark red manicure wrapped around the glass glinting in the dim light. Her voice was soft and sweet, just the kind that would make most guys melt on the spot.

But not the man she was clinging to. Ethan Neill barely looked at her, totally ignoring the curves and the cleavage, staring off to the side like he had bigger things on his mind.

Jessica pouted, whispering with a mix of flirt and mock annoyance, “Ethan, why are you ignoring me?”

He snapped back to attention, a flicker of irritation barely flashing across his face before he replaced it with a lazy, charming smile. “Apologies, Miss Stack. It’s rare to meet such a beautiful woman these days. I was simply stunned for a moment, didn’t mean to be rude.”

Hearing that, Jessica’s heart did a happy backflip. She scooted even closer, holding her glass out again with a soft chuckle. “You’re sweet. If you like me, I’m already over the moon. So how could I possibly be mad? Come on now, let’s drink. You won’t turn me down, will you?”

“Of course not,” Ethan said with a crooked grin, smoothly dodging her attempt to lean on him as he took the crystal glass from her hand.