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Summary: Camila assigns you as James Valdez’s new partner to test loyalty and control.
Chapter 3
By morning, your face was everywhere.
James saw the first one taped to a streetlight two blocks from the warehouse.
A grainy photo. Your name — or the old one.
And a number underneath.
REWARD.
He didn’t say anything at first. Just tore it down.
But by the time he reached the truck, he’d seen three more.
You weren’t just being looked for.
You were being hunted.
Camila didn’t hesitate.
“They’re organized,” she said coolly from behind her desk. “That man was not acting alone.”
Teresa stood nearby, watching you carefully.
Camila’s gaze shifted to James.
“You will take her to the safe house outside the city. No contact. No public movement. Lay low until I know who is behind this.”
James nodded once.
“And if they find us?” you asked.
Camila’s expression didn’t change.
“Then make sure they regret it.”
The safe house was quiet. Too quiet.
Small. Remote. One bedroom.
You stepped inside and scanned it automatically.
“One bed,” you muttered.
James set his bag down without reacting. “We’ve dealt with worse.”
You raised an eyebrow. “Comforting.”
There was no argument about who slept where.
You both knew neither of you would be sleeping much anyway.
The first night was quiet.
You cleaned guns at the small kitchen table while James disassembled a rifle across from you.
“You ever think about leaving?” you asked without looking up.
“Leaving what?”
“All of it.”
He slid a cloth down the barrel of the weapon. “No.”
That was it.
You finished reassembling your pistol and reached into your duffel bag.
James glanced up when you pulled something longer out.
A case.
He frowned slightly. “What’s that?”
You unzipped it calmly.
Your bow.
Custom grip. Reinforced limbs. Compact but powerful.
James stared at it for a second.
“You’ve been carrying that this whole time?”
“You didn’t ask.”
“You planning on going medieval?”
“It’s quiet. Precise. Doesn’t jam.”
He considered that.
“You’re full of surprises.”
“So are you.”
It happened just after midnight.
The first shot shattered the front window.
Glass exploded inward.
You were already moving before the second shot rang out.
“Down!” James shouted.
More bullets tore into the walls.
They’d found you.
James sprinted toward the bedroom for the larger weapons stash. You grabbed your pistol — and in one smooth motion, strapped your bow across your back.
Gunfire continued ripping through the house.
You slid behind the lounge, steadying your breathing.
James took position behind the refrigerator in the kitchen, rifle in hand.
“We move forward together,” he called.
“Copy.”
He leaned out, firing controlled bursts toward the front door.
You popped up briefly, firing twice through the broken window.
A body dropped outside.
James moved first — advancing toward the hallway.
“Move!” he ordered.
You rolled out from behind the lounge and followed.
Another attacker appeared at the side of the house.
The side window shattered.
A shot rang out—
You felt something slam into the side of your head.
Not a full hit.
A scrape.
But enough.
Your vision flashed white.
Your knees buckled.
The world tilted.
You hit the floor hard.
Sound muffled.
Distant.
“Y/N!” James’ voice ripped through the room.
He saw you drop.
For one split second —
He thought it had killed you.
Something in him snapped.
He stepped fully into the open, ignoring cover, and fired with ruthless precision. The shooter at the side window dropped instantly.
James reloaded the larger rifle without hesitation and advanced, firing again toward movement near the porch. Two more fell back.
Silence came in fragments.
Heavy.
Breathing.
Smoke.
He turned to you immediately.
You weren’t moving.
“Y/N,” he said again, but this time it was different.
Lower.
Tight.
He dropped beside you and pulled you into his arms carefully.
There was blood at your temple — but shallow. A graze.
Your chest was rising.
Relief hit him like impact.
“Hey,” he said firmly, brushing your hair back from your face. “Stay with me.”
Your eyes fluttered faintly.
He exhaled once — shaky, controlled.
“You’re not done,” he muttered.
He lifted you easily, one arm under your back, the other under your legs.
Protective.
Careful.
He carried you toward the bedroom, kicking the door shut behind him.
He laid you gently on the bed — the only bed — and grabbed a clean cloth from the bathroom.
“You’re okay,” he said quietly, pressing the cloth against the scrape on your head. “It didn’t go through.”
Your hand twitched.
He leaned closer.
“Y/N.”
Your eyes opened slowly.
Blurry.
But alive.
“You look stressed,” you murmured weakly.
The tension in his jaw tightened.
“Don’t.”
You tried to sit up.
He stopped you gently but firmly. “Stay down.”
“I’m fine.”
“You hit the floor.”
“I’ve hit worse.”
His hand remained at the side of your face, steadying you.
“For a second,” he said quietly, “I thought—”
Summary: Camila assigns you as James Valdez’s new partner to test loyalty and control.
Chapter 2
The deal was supposed to be simple.
That’s what James said when you pulled into the abandoned cannery near the docks. Neutral ground. Two buyers. Quick exchange. In and out.
Nothing about tonight felt simple.
“You recognise anyone?” James asked quietly as you stepped out of the truck.
You scanned the perimeter. Three men by the loading door. One leaning against a black sedan. Another pacing.
“No,” you said. “But they’re nervous.”
James noticed it too. The pacing. The way one of them kept adjusting his jacket.
“Stay behind me until I say otherwise,” he murmured.
“I thought you don’t protect people who can’t protect themselves.”
His eyes flicked to yours briefly. “This isn’t about that.”
You didn’t push it.
The buyers approached slowly. Handshakes were exchanged. Product was shown. Money was counted.
Routine.
Until it wasn’t.
One of the men by the sedan stepped forward.
You looked at him — and nothing clicked.
Different haircut. Beard. Thinner. Harder around the eyes.
You didn’t know him.
Then he smiled.
And something in your chest tightened.
“Well, I’ll be damned,” he said loudly. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”
James turned slightly, positioning himself between you and him without making it obvious.
“You’ve got the wrong person,” James said calmly.
The man laughed. “Oh no. I’ve got the right one.”
Your pulse picked up — but you still couldn’t place him.
“You disappear without a word,” he said to you. “Thought you could just walk away?”
And then it hit.
Not his face.
His voice.
Your blood ran cold.
James felt the shift instantly.
“You know him?” he asked low.
You swallowed. “I… didn’t. He looks different.”
The man stepped closer.
“This is business,” he snapped suddenly.
And then it happened fast.
He reached inside his jacket and pulled a gun — not at James.
At you.
Time sharpened.
As he raised the weapon, you stepped in — not back.
Your hand slammed against his wrist, forcing the barrel upward just as his finger tightened on the trigger. The shot fired into the air, loud and wild.
You twisted hard, pivoting your body under his arm. The gun slipped loose.
You ripped it from his hand.
In the same motion, you threw it across the concrete. It skidded under a parked truck.
Before he could react—
You punched him.
Hard.
Your fist connected clean with his jaw, snapping his head sideways.
He staggered.
You grabbed his collar and forced him to look at you.
“I’m not the same girl I was,” you said coldly.
James exploded into motion.
He grabbed the man and slammed him against the hood of the sedan with controlled force. The other buyers scrambled backward.
“You okay?” James demanded without looking at you.
“I’m fine.”
“You hesitated.”
“I didn’t.”
The man struggled under James’ grip, breath ragged, blood at the corner of his mouth.
“You don’t get to leave!” he shouted at you.
Something inside you hardened further.
“I already did.”
James’ hold tightened.
“You knew him,” he said.
You nodded once.
“From before.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because I didn’t think he’d find me. I didn’t even recognize him at first.”
James glanced down at the man pinned beneath his hand.
“It’s not over if they can find you.”
That landed.
You forced your breathing steady.
“He was small-time. Desperate. I didn’t think he’d—”
“Thinking gets people killed,” James cut in sharply.
The edge in his voice wasn’t anger.
It was fear.
Sirens wailed faintly in the distance.
“We have to move,” James said.
He shoved the man away, sending him to the ground.
As you reached the truck, James stopped you.
“You don’t step in like that again.”
“He was about to shoot me.”
“I would’ve handled it.”
“And I did.”
For a second, it looked like he might argue.
Instead, he stepped closer.
Too close.
“You don’t get reckless with your life,” he said, voice low and controlled. “Not on my watch.”
You met his gaze steadily.
“It wasn’t reckless.”
“It was personal.”
That was true.
You didn’t deny it.
The sirens grew louder.
James opened the passenger door but didn’t let you get in yet.
“From now on,” he said, “anything from your past — you tell me.”
“You don’t tell people things.”
“I’m telling you.”
The weight of that settled between you.
Trust.
Fast. Forced. Real.
You nodded once.
“Fine.”
He held your gaze a second longer — confirming, measuring.
Then he finally let you get in.
As the truck sped away from the docks, city lights blurred past.
James kept one hand on the wheel.
The other rested briefly — almost unconsciously — on your knee.
Grounding.
Checking.
Still here.
He didn’t remove it immediately.
And you didn’t comment on it.
Behind you, the deal had collapsed.
But something else had solidified.
You weren’t the same girl you were.
And now James knew it too.
If you want Chapter 3:
Camila interrogates you about your past
Teresa defends you privately
The guy was working for someone bigger
Or James opens up about his own past
Tell me the energy 👀🔥
change it to the guy has been looking for you everywhere, did you really think you could hide from me
Yesss — that line raises the stakes perfectly. I’ll adjust his dialogue and the tension so it feels more obsessive and threatening, while keeping everything else flowing naturally.
Chapter Two
“Trust Me Now”
The deal was supposed to be simple.
That’s what James said when you pulled into the abandoned cannery near the docks. Neutral ground. Two buyers. Quick exchange. In and out.
Nothing about tonight felt simple.
“You recognize anyone?” James asked quietly as you stepped out of the truck.
You scanned the perimeter. Three men by the loading door. One leaning against a black sedan. Another pacing.
“No,” you said. “But they’re nervous.”
James noticed it too. The pacing. The way one of them kept adjusting his jacket.
“Stay behind me until I say otherwise,” he murmured.
“I thought you don’t protect people who can’t protect themselves.”
His eyes flicked to yours briefly. “This isn’t about that.”
You didn’t push it.
The buyers approached slowly. Handshakes were exchanged. Product was shown. Money was counted.
Routine.
Until it wasn’t.
One of the men by the sedan stepped forward.
You looked at him — and nothing clicked.
Different haircut. Beard. Thinner. Colder.
You didn’t know him.
Then he smiled.
And something in your chest tightened.
“Did you really think you could hide from me?” he called out.
Your stomach dropped.
The voice.
That’s what did it.
James shifted slightly in front of you. “You’ve got the wrong person.”
The man laughed softly. “No. I’ve been looking for her everywhere.”
Your pulse hammered now.
“You disappear,” he continued, eyes locked on you. “New city. New people. New name. Did you really think I wouldn’t find you?”
James’ voice lowered. “You know him?”
You swallowed. “I didn’t at first. He looks different.”
The man stepped closer.
“This is business,” he snapped suddenly.
And then it happened fast.
He reached inside his jacket and pulled a gun — not at James.
At you.
Time sharpened.
As he raised the weapon, you stepped in — not back.
Your hand slammed against his wrist, forcing the barrel upward just as his finger tightened on the trigger. The shot fired into the air, loud and wild.
You twisted hard, pivoting under his arm. The gun slipped loose.
You ripped it from his grip and threw it across the concrete. It skidded under a parked truck.
Before he could recover—
You punched him.
Hard.
Your fist cracked against his jaw, snapping his head sideways. He staggered.
You grabbed his collar and forced him to look at you.
“I’m not the same girl I was,” you said, voice steady and cold.
James moved instantly.
He grabbed the man and slammed him against the hood of the sedan, controlled but brutal. The other buyers backed away fast.
“You okay?” James demanded without looking at you.
“I’m fine.”
“You hesitated.”
“I didn’t.”
The man struggled under James’ grip, breathing heavy.
“You can’t hide forever!” he spat at you. “I told you I’d find you!”
Something inside you went still.
“I wasn’t hiding,” you said evenly. “I moved on.”
James’ hold tightened.
“You knew him,” he said.
You nodded once.
“From before.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because I didn’t think he’d actually find me.”
James glanced down at the man beneath him.
“It’s not over if they’ve been looking for you.”
That landed.
You steadied your breathing.
“He was small-time. Obsessive. I didn’t think he had the reach.”
“Thinking gets people killed,” James cut in sharply.
The edge in his voice wasn’t anger.
It was fear.
Sirens began wailing faintly in the distance.
“We have to move,” James said.
He shoved the man away, sending him to the ground.
As you reached the truck, James stopped you.
“You don’t step in like that again.”
“He was about to shoot me.”
“I would’ve handled it.”
“And I did.”
For a second, it looked like he might argue.
Instead, he stepped closer.
Too close.
“You don’t get reckless with your life,” he said, voice low and controlled. “Not on my watch.”
You met his gaze steadily.
“It wasn’t reckless.”
“It was personal.”
That was true.
You didn’t deny it.
The sirens grew louder.
James opened the passenger door but didn’t let you get in yet.
“From now on,” he said, “anything from your past — you tell me.”
“You don’t tell people things.”
“I’m telling you.”
The weight of that settled between you.
Trust.
Fast. Real.
You nodded once.
“Fine.”
He held your gaze a second longer — confirming.
Then he let you get in.
As the truck sped away, city lights streaked past.
James kept one hand on the wheel.
The other rested briefly — almost unconsciously — on your knee.
Grounding.
Checking.
Still here.
Behind you, someone had just proven your past wasn’t buried.
And James had just shown you that if anyone came for you—
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
âś“ Live Streamingâś“ Interactive Chatâś“ Private Showsâś“ HD Qualityâś“ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
