The room was silent except for his voice echoing those rights, a heavy mix of law and heartbreak filling the space between them. And then, slowly, Nancy’s lips curved again, not in sadness, but in something chillingly close to amusement.

  Her eyes locked on his, unblinking.

  Nathan’s hand hovered in the air, the cuff glinting under the dim light, his heart thundering in his chest. He didn’t know it yet, but the most dangerous part of the night was only beginning.

  Nathan didn’t flinch. His pulse was hammering, but his eyes stayed fixed on Nancy’s. He took a bold step forward, his jaw locked with determination. The air between them was razor-sharp, so thick with tension that even the candle flames seemed to tremble. Nancy stood still for a heartbeat, her expression unreadable. Then, with a slow, deliberate movement, she raised both hands and surrendered. Her eyes glistened, not with fear, but something more dangerous, like a calm before a storm.

  “Do you really want to do this?” she asked, her voice quiet yet laced with venom.

  “Yes,” Nathan replied, his tone firm but cracked faintly with emotion. “Arresting criminals is my job, and you are one.”

  Nancy smiled. “Come on then, get it over with.”

  He pulled the handcuffs from his belt. The cold steel gleamed under the light as he stepped closer. His hand trembled slightly, not out of fear, but from the storm brewing inside him; anger, heartbreak, betrayal, and something far worse: regret. He reached for her wrist. But in an instant, everything changed.

  Nancy moved faster than his eyes could follow. She twisted her body with inhuman agility, her frame spinning like a striking viper. Before Nathan could react, her arm snaked around his neck, locking him in a deadly chokehold. His breath caught in his throat. Her grip was steel, unyielding.

  “N—Nancy,” he gasped, his hands clawing at her arm. Her forearm pressed tighter, cutting his airflow. His vision blurred, black creeping into the corners. For seconds, Nathan struggled, his boots scraping against the floor. He tried to reach for his gun, but Nancy’s knee pinned his arm. His lungs screamed.

  Then instinct took over. He slammed his heel down on her foot and then drove his knee backward, hard into her leg. The sound that followed was sharp, sickening. Nancy let out a hiss of pain and stumbled back, releasing him. Nathan broke free, staggering forward, coughing violently, clutching his throat.

  For a moment, both stood apart, panting. The only sound was their breathing and the faint clink of the dropped handcuffs rolling across the floor. Nathan straightened, rage and disbelief blazing in his eyes. “I’m going to arrest you today,” he said, his voice hoarse but strong. “You won’t escape it.”

  Nancy smiled, a slow, mocking curve of her lips that made Nathan’s stomach twist. “I don’t see that happening, not today, not ever.” she said softly, her tone eerily calm. And then they lunged.

  They collided with a force that shook the small apartment. Fists met flesh. The crash of furniture echoed through the walls. A vase shattered. Plates fell. Nathan swung first, a clean right hook aimed at her jaw, but she ducked, fluid like water, and countered with a strike that landed square on his ribs. Pain flared, but Nathan gritted his teeth and swung again.

  Nancy blocked. Her movements were sharp, precise, almost military. Nathan knew she wasn’t just some rogue killer. Every move she made screamed training. He recognized the discipline, the deadly economy of motion. Whoever Nancy really was, she had been trained to fight, and to kill.

  He lunged again, his elbow slicing through the air toward her neck. She caught it mid-swing, twisted his arm, and flipped him over her shoulder. Nathan hit the floor hard, the air knocked from his lungs. He rolled aside just as her foot came down, slamming into the floor where his chest had been a moment earlier. He scrambled up, blood trickling from his lip. Nancy’s eyes glowed with fury, her hair wild around her face. There was no trace of the doctor he once knew.

  “You don’t know what you’re doing,” she hissed. “I know exactly what I’m doing,” he spat, and charged again. The sound of fists and grunts filled the room. A glass table shattered, scattering shards like rain. Nathan blocked, ducked, countered. He was fighting for breath now, his chest heaving. Nancy moved with unnatural speed, striking with precision that bordered on monstrous.

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  He threw a punch, she dodged. He swung again, but still missed. She landed a knee into his gut, forcing him to stumble backward, gasping. Her strength didn’t make sense. She wasn’t supposed to be this strong as a woman. It was as if rage, betrayal, and darkness itself were fueling her.

  Nathan tried to remember his training, disarm, disable, subdue. But nothing worked. She anticipated every move, every feint. She was ahead of him, reading his body like a map. Then it happened, one misstep.

  Nathan swung too wide. Nancy caught his wrist mid-air, twisted it, and with brutal force slammed her elbow into his jaw. His head snapped sideways, stars bursting across his vision. Before he could recover, she swept his legs out from under him.

  He hit the ground hard. The impact rattled his bones. Nancy stood over him, breathing heavily, her shadow looming. Her expression had changed again, something cold, empty, almost mechanical. Without hesitation, she stepped forward and pressed her boot against his neck. Nathan gagged, clawing at her ankle, struggling for breath. His vision dimmed again. He tried to push her foot off, but she pressed harder, her eyes dark and distant.

  “Why didn’t you just leave it alone?” she whispered, her voice trembling, not from fear, but emotion. “Why couldn’t you just love me and away from my business?”

  “I was ready to let go of my mission fo? you but you are too addicted to your job.”

  Nathan couldn’t speak. His hands clawed weakly at the floor. For a moment, her face twisted in pain; real pain. Then she forced it down. Her foot pressed tighter, until his body went limp. His eyes rolled back.

  There was silence.

  Nancy stood there for several seconds, chest rising and falling rapidly, the sound of her breathing filling the broken silence. She looked down at Nathan’s unconscious body. He wasn’t dead, but he was close.

  She stared at him for a long while. Her heart was thundering, her mind spiraling. She should kill him. She knew it. He had seen too much, uncovered everything. He had proof, his team would find her soon. Killing him was the only logical choice.

  But as she raised her trembling hands, ready to finish it, something inside her broke. The memories came flooding back, the way he smiled when she teased him about his poems, the way he had listened to her talk about dreams, the way he had kissed her forehead one quiet evening under the city lights.

  She staggered back, tears stinging her eyes. “Damn you, Andrew,” she whispered. “Why did you make me feel again? Why did you make me fall for you when you are my enemy?”

  She pressed her trembling fingers to her lips, stifling a sob. “I should hate you, because you used me,” she said under her breath. “But I can’t.”

  She turned away sharply, trying to steady herself, but her heart was a battlefield. She stared at the unconscious man sprawled on her floor, his badge lying inches from his hand, his necklace glinting faintly. It hurt to look at him. She crouched down beside him, her face softening despite herself. Gently, she brushed her fingers over his hair, then his cheek.

  “I should end this,” she murmured. “But I can’t. Not tonight.” Her lips quivered. “Not you.” Nancy stood, pacing, torn between instinct and emotion. The logical part of her screamed to finish the job. The human part, the part Nathan had awakened, begged her not to.

  Finally, she turned away. Her eyes hardened again. “I can’t let you ruin everything,” she whispered. “But I can’t kill you either.” She grabbed her coat and her gun. Then, in one swift motion, she pressed a small syringe into Nathan’s arm. “Sleep,” she said softly. “When you wake, you will be in another world entirely.”

  Minutes later, Nathan’s phone buzzed on the floor beside him. The faint light of the screen revealed Rita’s name flashing.

  At the station, Rita’s hands flew over the keyboard as she watched the tracking signal. Her brows furrowed. “Why is his location still showing Doctor Nancy Oakham’s home?” she murmured, more to herself than anyone else. “Could she actually be the

  At that moment, Nathan’s phone stopped moving. It has been more than thirty minutes since Nathan last tested. “Let's go,” she instructed. They jumped into her car and drove down to Nancy’s apartment. But before they could alight the car, the tractor jumped. It suddenly jumped, his location now showing Central City.

  Rita’s eyes widened. “What the hell?”

  “It was showing this address just five minutes ago,” she said. “How could it suddenly change?” Bobby frowned. “Maybe he left. We should turn and head to Central City.”

  “No,” Rita snapped, shaking her head. “The location changed too fast. He couldn’t have left here in five minutes and gotten to Central Park.” Bobby’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean?” Rita didn’t answer immediately. Her jaw tightened. She looked at the screen one more time, then back at the building address glowing faintly under the map.

  Her voice came out low, firm, and certain. “We must go in and search this house.” And with that, she grabbed her gun, motioned to Bobby and two other agents, and pushed open the car door, headed straight into the lion’s den.

  At the door, Rita knocked, half-expecting silence so they could break in without guilt. But to her surprise, the door creaked open almost immediately. Standing there, framed in the dim golden glow of the hallway light, was Nancy Oakham, dressed in soft pink lingerie that clung lightly to her figure. Her hair fell loosely around her shoulders, her face calm and inviting, almost as though she’d just stepped out of a romantic evening.

  “Good evening, madam,” she greeted, her voice sweet and composed. “Who are you, and how can I help you?”

  Rita froze. Her brows tightened as her instincts screamed inside her, but her mind wavered. There was something unnerving about Nancy’s calm, something almost too perfect. Rita’s tongue felt heavy, her words failed her. She doubted if it was a nice decision to have come knocking on her door.

  Before the silence grew awkward, Bobby who had realized Rita’s failed composure stepped forward, flashing a polite smile to bridge the tension. “We are from the Vexmoor Police Force,” he said with the steady tone of an officer used to questioning suspects. “We’re looking for Andrew Coleman, your boyfriend.”

  Nancy’s lips curved in a delicate smile. “He left here over thirty minutes ago,” she replied, almost casually, as if she were discussing a late-night errand. Bobby nodded. “Alright then, we better head out.” He smiled again, polite, professional, ready to withdraw.

  But Nancy’s eyes lingered on him, studying his posture. “Just like that?” she asked, her tone curious but edged. “You won’t tell me why the Vexmoor Police are searching for my boyfriend? Did he do something wrong?” Bobby chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. “Relax your mind, ma’am. He did nothing.”

  Nancy tilted her head, her smile fading slightly. “Does the police search for somebody over nothing?” she asked softly, her voice sharper now, layered with suspicion. Rita’s instincts exploded. Something was off, deeply off. She wasn’t about to be disarmed by Nancy’s poise or beauty. Without another word, she pushed forward, shoving Nancy aside and storming into the apartment.

  “Rita!” Bobby called out after her, startled. “Don’t do that!” But it was too late. Rita was already inside, her gun-hand twitching slightly from unease rather than aggression.

  Nancy’s calm shattered. “What is wrong with you?” she screamed, clutching her waist as she turned sharply toward the officers. “Have you gone mad?”