Chapter 1

Tris was walking to work as if it were any normal day—which it wasn't, and she was aware of that. She walked past the local coffee shop, smelling the delicious cakes, coffees, and creams, then the gym blasting encouraging, outrageously loud music, some houses, little shops, a park with screaming, adorable children, and finally, work.

The lovely station of the Chicago P.D. was pretty nice; they'd just reopened the new station. It was ten times classier than their old one.

Tris walked in getting many "Hi"s and "Hello"s. After all, she was the head detective and she was damn good at what she did.

She recently made a big bust (the day before, to be exact) and got a few pats on the back. There was a huge drug ring that'd been going on for years beforehand and no one—no one—could figure it out. She did, and it turned out to be one of her greatest achievements so far. She was so proud. So proud because she was the one to figure it. So proud because it was impossible for others to figure out. Sure, she had the help of her colleagues and friends, but she was the real MVP on that case. That was why she was proud. Because she was damn good at what she did, and no one would ever, ever take that away from her.

There was something lying on her desk when she arrived. A cupcake. It read in icing, "Congrats!"

"All right, who gave me this cupcake," she said loudly as she was chuckling. "I'll take this down to Forensics and have it tested for poisons."

They laughed. It was normal for the surrounding people to butt in and laugh, and she didn't mind at all. At the station almost everyone was friendly.

"It was me," a voice said. "Your dear friend, Uriah. Congrats on the bust."

"Thanks, Uriah," Tris said, then hugged him. "I couldn't have done it without you though. Now, let's get to work. We need to interrogate suspect Sergio Mage in interrogation room #1. He's the leader of the drug ring. We've got about five other suspects that work alongside him. We need to interrogate all of them today. Got it?"

"Yes, ma'am."

Uriah was Junior Detective. The ranking under Tris. The chief was first, then sergeant, then head detective, junior detective, then police officers. The sergeant was Zeke Pedrad, Uriah's older brother. Tris didn't want to be chief or sergeant; she liked her position as head detective, because even though she was only third ranked at the station, she was still well-respected.

Even though Uriah was ranked lower, they were still friends. In fact, she even knew he had a thing for the coroner, Marlene. Their little group of friends were nice. There was Christina, a 9-1-1 dispatcher, Will, a forensics technician, Zeke, the sergeant, Shauna, who worked in the lab with Will as an assistant, Marlene, the coroner, Uriah, the junior detective, and her, lead detective. Although they all had different jobs, they all were under one roof.

Tris was the only single one. She didn't mind though. Well, sometimes she felt like a seventh wheel (if that was even a thing) but they all started out as friends to begin with. Besides, she was twenty-three. She had plenty of time.

Tris and Uriah made their way to interrogation room #1. There was a caucasian man in a wifebeater tank-top, jean shorts, and sandals. He looked like a peach. Tris was about to step into the room where the man sat, but her radio came on.

"Detective Tris Prior, please report to Chief Max Kelly's office."

"Copy that," Tris said into it. "Think you can handle it from here, Pedrad?" she asked Uriah, smirking.

"This ain't my first rodeo, darlin'," he responded.

"All right. I should be back."

Tris walked down a pattern of hallways until she found the chief's office.

"Yes, Chief?" she asked, posture straight and respectful.

"At ease," he chuckled. "It's just me. We're cool, you and I."

Tris laughed. "What can I do for ya?" she asked, sitting down in the chair in front of his desk.

"A man was murdered today. Another man, the city is calling him Four, caught the killer and chained him to the nearest thing to the body. You see, this man, Four, is a vigilante, of sorts. Taking matters into his own hands rather than informing the police. This is what our sketch artist has conjured up from an eyewitness."

Tris took the pencil drawing from his hands. The first was the man's face. Strong jawline, firm cheekbones, slightly hooked nose, and dark, ocean-blue eyes.

"As you know, sketch artists don't add color typically, but the eyewitness was very adamant about the eyes."

Tris observed a little more. There was a large hood over the man's head and he was wearing a black mask that covered the bridge of his nose to each side of his head near his ears. He had a little stubble on his chin. The eyewitness was awfully descriptive.

"The eyewitness must've been pretty close to this 'Four' to see these little details, don't you think?" she asked suspiciously.

"Well that's because the eyewitness was the one who committed the murder."

"So you mean to tell me that a killer gave us this description?"

He nodded.

"And you're trusting this psychopath?"

"It's all we've got, Tris," Max told her. "It's better than nothing,"

"Okay. And what am I supposed to do?"

"Find him and arrest him."

Tris later went back to the interrogation room with Uriah. After an hour with Uriah, Mage didn't crack, so Tris stepped in.

She put a hand on Uriah's shoulder and sat down in the chair next to him and across from Mage and his lawyer.

"Listen, Sergio. This is my dear friend Uriah here, Junior Detective. See, he's very good at was he does, and so am I. Now, if you cooperate, we'll give you a plea deal. As long as you tell us, we can go pretty far with the amount of prison time taken off. Now are you willing to spill?"

"No," his lawyer said for him.

Sergio shook his head.

Tris turned to Uriah and nodded her head back, as if to leave the room. She did this all the time.

Once he was out of the room, she said, "You got kids, Sergio?"

"Don't say a thing, Mage."

Mage gave him an annoyed look and nodded.

"Not a talker. Neither am I, usually. Depends on who I'm around. Anyway, what're your kids' names?"

"Belle and Frankie. Twins. Thirteen."

"A wife?"

A little smile peeked on his face. "Donna."

Tris typically didn't share this exact story, but it was special. Usually she made up a story to get the perp to spill, but the first thing that popped into her head was her little baby Jules.

"I've got a kid too. Juliet. She's just precious. Four years old. Now how would you feel if you got life in prison and they found out what you were up to? I mean, they'll find out eventually, but if you accept this plea deal… They'll get full visitation rights, you'll get treated much better in prison, and you can get partial parole instead of full-time prison. Now, what do you think little Belle and Frankie will think of you then if you were in prison a long time? What about Donna? I know that my Jules would be so, so very disappointed in me. She might even would never talk to me again, if I was in your place."

"I accept," he said softly.

"Sergio—" his lawyer began.

"No. I accept."

Tris smiled. "I'll get the paperwork."

She stepped out and into the room with the one-way mirror. Half the station was in there.

They looked at her in awe.

"Tris, you have a kid?" Chief Max asked.

She sighed. "I did."

"Why haven't you told anyone?" an officer asked.

"I'm sorry, I didn't realize it was any of you guys' business," she snapped. She walked out of the room and started to walk outside. She needed air.

The wind pierced her skin, chilling her to the bone. It was November already. Good thing she was wearing long sleeves. An icy breath escaped her lips, and she cold see her breath through her glazed eyes. She never talked about Juliet, even with her friends. Juliet was her child, but she… she had a birth defect. Born prematurely. She still considered Juliet to be her child though, even considering the fact that she was gone. She would've turned four that day. November 23rd. Tris could hardly even bare the thought.

But she was strong. She got through it without Peter, Juliet's father. She had family and friends. But the reason she got through that was because she was strong. That wasn't the end of her. If anything, it was the beginning. She just started her life. She was able to join the academy. She got this job. She wasn't stuck with Peter.

She looked at the bright side, even though it was mostly dark.

So Tris walked back inside, dignified. She didn't need to be worrying about anything. Her life was good. She was strong.

That was all that mattered.

She was walking home from the station in the dark. She took the short way through an alley, not caring if there were any bad things going on. She was in the CPD. She would be fine.

She tucked her hands into her sweatshirt pocket to keep warm and let her hair down from its ponytail keep her ears warm. She was running a hand through her hair when a faint outline popped up just feet in front of her.

She quickly pulled the gun from in between her back and her jeans and said, "CPD, I've got a gun!"

"Woah, woah, calm down," a deep voice said. "I saw some thugs following you and warned 'em off. Think you could give your hero a kiss?"

"Who are you?" she asked.

"They call me Four."

"Dammit," she mumbled. "So who are you, really?"

"Can't say. I'm still trying to find myself."

"Don't go hipster on me. I could arrest you right now."

"Please, I'd love if you put me in handcuffs."

"Oh, gross. Don't be like that."

"I'm sorry, but you're gorgeous."

She fake-gagged. "You are under arrest for the act of vigilantism."

"C'mon on, sweetie, don't be like that."

She neared him, but didn't lower her gun.

"You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in the court of l—"

"You think you can catch me. How cute. May we meet again, gorgeous," he said with a wink, then disappeared.

"What?" she said under her breath. "Come out, come out, wherever you are."

But he was gone. Nowhere to be found. It was like he just disappeared out of thin air. Either he was extremely stealthy or a magician, because the way he disappeared had to've required some sort of talent.

She shook her head, then began to walk toward her house. She never saw it coming.

The only thing she didn't understand, though, why she didn't just cuff him. Sure he was charming and all, but… he kind of seemed like a jerk. Hitting on her and stuff. But she couldn't get a grip on why she didn't just cuff him. The only thing that prevented her was the distance between the two of them. She loved cuffing people. That feeling of pride and honor it gave her… it was irreplaceable.

She shook it off though. She would catch him. She always did.

It was what she did for a living. No matter how charming, cute…

He's wearing a mask, dumbass, she told herself. The idea of him is cute. Not. Him.

She would not let herself fall for a criminal. A criminal! What was she even thinking? A criminal, for God's sake. A cop and a criminal definitely don't mix.

And besides, she'd have him cuffed up and behind bars within a week.

She was one of the best out there. This guy would cause her no trouble.