Janet stared at the medium-sized framed picture in her hand—a picture of herself and a little girl. She had only placed dinner on the table after she got back from work. She didn't care to see Cas; she was still furious with how he had downplayed her effort. Janet had to go to work today to get an emergency leave notice, which would approve her absence for two weeks. As much as she hated Cas' guts, he was right about her poor self-defense skills. Why did he even care about stuff like that?
Her attention returned to the picture, and she caressed the little girl in the frame.
"A little more time…Dina," She whispered, bringing the frame to her chest and holding back tears. "A little more time."
Then came a gentle knock at the door, Janet knew—it could be nobody else but Cas. She turned the picture frame on its face on the bedside table and called out, "Coming."
She slipped into the only thing she could grab quickly—a short loose satin nightgown draped over her bare body— and hurried to open the door.
Cas stood there, bare-chested, still no tattoos in sight, wearing nothing but his joggers. She guessed he must have retrieved them from the laundry room while she wasn't home. Her eyes lingered on the faint outline pressing through the fabric, the way the joggers hung low, revealing the sharp V of his abdomen. Her gaze slid upward—over his abs, his chest, his tight nipples, his thick neck—until it landed on his eyes. They stared at her with that same intensity as though they could see straight into her secrets.
"Had your fill," he said.
Janet snapped back, remembering she should be offended. Folding her hands, she lifted her chin. "What do you want?"
"You could have let me know you were back."
She scoffed "What? You missed me?"
"Maybe."
This time she caught his gaze fixed on her thighs. Under his stare, the night gown felt shorter. She curled her toes.
"You realize it's common sense to alert the person you live with when you're home," Cas continued, "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 eyes swept over her body again, making her nerves spark. When his gaze met hers, he smirked. "I ordered pizza."
That caught her off guard. "Pizza?"
"Don't like eating it alone."
"O…oh.uhm." She remembered 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 wasn't in the mood.
"I'll be right out," she murmured.
"Love the satin." He said as he strolled back to the living room.
Janet glanced down at the wine-red satin 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 TV together.
* *
Janet eyed the four men spread across her living room and the two at her dining table. All sturdily built, their presence alone 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 her 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 swallowed 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 but only one buzzed as it slid back and forth. Empty, quiet.
Janet heard Cas' 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 reacted instantly though he didn't need to know. He was only an inch away from her body but she felt every bit of him. She swallowed hard and obeyed, not wanting to read meaning into it.
"Shoulders straight."
His hands adjusted her —firm, steady— but they grazed her sides, brushing too close to the sides of her breasts, before guiding her arms straight. Her insides clenched. Was he doing this on purpose? Or was it really just training? His scent was everywhere, clouding her head.
"Focus," he said, low and commanding.
She narrowed her eyes, through the protective glasses, aimed at the moving target. Cas gently dropped his hands, but stayed right behind her
"Ready?"
Janet nodded.
"Shoot."
She shot, the shot missed the head, and hit the shoulder. Still, she felt triumphant.
"Good job" Cas murmured, "but it's not done yet till you take the head."
She turned and nearly collided with him. His face was still so close. His eyes were sharp, and fixed on her. She forced herself to look away, reloaded, and aimed again.
Then his voice brushed her ear, slow, deliberate. "A practical way to aim— imagine your enemy."
He dragged his words as if dropping them on her neck. She thought of HENNEDY. The gun cracked. The bullet split the target's head.
Before she could react, Cas leaned in, his breath hot on her neck.
"Good girl."
Her knees went weak, she couldn't move. His hands caged her in, braced on either side of the lane. His body pressed forward— hard, hot, deliberate. Her body liked it, and she found herself leaning back into his without meaning to.
Then his tongue slid across her neck. Janet whimpered before she could stop herself.
"Maybe I should taste what makes you so stubborn, lawyer," he said.
She tried to turn, but he caught her, lifting her chin until her lips hovered inches from his. His eyes burned into hers. She couldn't breathe. She didn't know what she was begging for, only that she was.
She managed to squeak out. "Cas…I…"
He silenced her with his mouth. The kiss was hot and slow but rough at the same time, his tongue sliding in, taking, owning. Janet froze, shocked, then melted, giving in with nothing but a muffled moan as he devoured her.