NADINE
Most people I know have stories that start with catching their fiancé cheating.
Mine?
Mine started with my lying, douchebag fiancé—the man I was supposed to marry next month—stealing the promotion I worked my ass off to earn.
I stood in the middle of the precinct conference room, surrounded by grins and applause, as my forty-year-old captain's voice echoed off the walls.
"And this year's promotion goes to Detective Julian Sanders!"
"Julian Sanders?" I muttered under my breath, staring dazedly at the name on the screen and the familiar, handsome face beneath it.
I blinked twice, sure I had to be hallucinating, just as the case he was being promoted for flashed up.
Project Red Line.
For six months, I'd staked out warehouses, turned in low-level thugs, and tracked laundered cash through every crooked casino in the city. I had eaten, slept, and breathed that case. I wrote every damn report, ran every lead, and risked everything.
I'd even taken three fucking bullets because I wanted that promotion so badly.
Yet somehow…his name was on the screen.
Not mine.
My fingers clenched, nails biting half-moons into my palms as hot tears welled in my eyes, blurring my vision.
I'd been so sure I'd get it. Julian had been sure, too. He'd told me I was a shoo-in. Had even offered to take me out to celebrate once everything was done.
A pre-honeymoon. Anywhere I wanted before the wedding.
I had thought he was the best decision I'd ever made.
What a joke.
"Ugh, thank God it's Julian who got it. I can't stand her," someone murmured beside me.
"Same," another voice chimed in. "I'm just happy I'm a thousand bucks richer. I won my bet."
"Let's be real," someone else added. "She's weak compared to Julian. She's up against stronger men. Even if her name had come up, she wouldn't have gotten it anyway. It was always going to be one of the guys."
I forced my throat to work, swallowing the thick lump rising there as more murmurs surrounded me. No one bothered to acknowledge the hard work I had poured into that case. All they saw was a woman.
A woman who had dared to stand against men. A woman who had hoped to move beyond the position she'd been stuck in. And because I wasn't a man, I was never taken seriously.
Captain Riley continued speaking, ignoring the growing noise in the room. My eyes stayed locked on him, rage simmering just beneath the surface.
"I know Sanders couldn't be here today—doctor's orders—but let's show him some love, yeah? Everyone sends him a nice text, and don't forget to chip in for a gift. We'll throw a little party when he's back on his feet."
With that, he dismissed everyone.
I bolted for the door the second the meeting ended, following him down the hall and slipping into his office just as he did.
"Yes?" Captain Riley murmured, barely sparing me a glance.
"Is it because I'm a woman?" I asked, keeping my voice steady despite the fire burning in my chest.
Captain Riley's hand paused on the edge of his drawer. He straightened, looked at me briefly, then shrugged and glanced away. He pulled a file from the drawer and flipped it over.
"What are you talking about?" he asked.
"The case is mine!" I snapped.
How could he pretend not to understand when he knew exactly what he'd done?
"You can try again next time, love," he said in a bored tone.
I looked at him in disbelief.
"Try again? I worked on that case for six months!" My voice rose despite my effort to control it. "I gave you every report. I told you every move I was making—"
"Hey, don't blame me," Captain Riley cut in sharply, glaring at me. "Blame the higher-ups who think your fiancé is far more competent than you."
"He wasn't even part of the case!" I shot back.
He sighed, kneading the bridge of his nose. "Look, Caruso, you're a good detective. I'm not disputing that. But if the higher-ups think Julian is better, then they have their reasons. As for him getting your case, take it up with him. I just follow instructions."
Following instructions? More like being sexist like the rest of them. Of course, the bastard was the one who'd definitely have recommended Julian.
"Yeah," I muttered, the bitterness unmistakable. "I wonder if I were your sister, if you'd do this to me."
Captain Riley's eyes narrowed, but before he could respond, I turned and stalked out of his office.
I couldn't stay there another second. I couldn't stand the weight of everyone's stares either, the smug looks, the fake pity. So I left for home early.
Partly to breathe, mostly to confront Julian.
—
I pushed open the door to the apartment I'd shared with Julian for five years, tossed my black structured bag on the couch, and kicked off my heels.
I groaned, flexing my feet as instant relief flooded me.
My thoughts drifted to my missed promotion and my father's reaction if he got wind of it. I could already imagine the smile on his face and his words:
"It's okay, Nadina. It's a man's world, after all. You don't need to work hard to prove yourself."
I was the only girl out of the five children my father had. After the only meaningful person in my life died, my mother, it was hard not to be seen as merely a tool to be used and bred. To prove I was worth as much as my brothers whom he cherished so much, I joined the police force at twenty-one after graduating from college.
My father hated the police for reasons known only to him, and thought I was just trying to rebel against him by doing the one thing he despised most.
But for me? It was about passion. I wanted to help people get justice, save lives, and, most of all, break the conformity of the patriarchal system—proving, especially to my father, that women could be more than he thought.
Taking the spiral stairs two at a time as I made my way towards our bedroom, I groaned as the loud, heavy metal music blasting from the speakers pierced my ears.
I loathed when Julian played it. It sounded like people arguing and fighting with each other.
Besides, he was sick with an awful headache. How the hell was he playing something as loud and horrible as this?
My step faltered as I stepped on something on the floor, nearly tripping over it. I stared down, then bent to pick up the white fabric near the door. It was Julian's boxers.
I grimaced, folding it in my hand, then picked up three more items of clothing before twisting the doorknob.
Immediately, I was hit by a perfume so sharp it stung my nose and then…
Moans and grunts.
Every piece of clothing I held slipped from my fingers and fell to the floor, breath knocked out of me as I stared at the man who was supposed to be my fiancé, buried deep inside her on the bed.