Pacing myself during combat was something I'd learned the first time I'd thrown a punch. But that had been ages ago when I was five. He was a spoiled brat who wanted to steal my new motorbike toy.

Now I was twenty-eight years old, and he was my fiancé. Not by choice, but, oh how the tables have turned.

I'd agreed to enter this charade to uphold my father's image. I was supposed to play the dead cop's devastated little. Well, the city had another side of me showing her face, but they didn't know it.

My anger at the upcoming elections and how my fiancé's uncle was the favorite had my blood boiling. I liked to think that my dad was the last good cop in this city, and he'd perished during a secret operation a couple of years ago.

It had taken me ages to figure out what that operation was, and it opened a can of worms I wasn't ready to digest. It was then I decided to take matters into my own hands and carry on his legacy…but in less than orthodox ways. I was certain he wouldn't approve of me prowling the city at night, stalking the scumbags during the day, then striking when they didn't expect it.

What fueled my vigilante act was the fact that there was someone else doing the same thing. Some nights, we crossed paths. We'd even beaten a gang by uniting forces. I didn't know who he was, but he was fast and damn good. There was no misplaced punch or kick he threw.

I admired him.

"Ow, Bells!" Jake grunted, blocking my next blow to his liver. "Take it easy. What's got into you?"

I took a step back, taking a few breaths to calm myself and cool down from the adrenaline of our training. "Sorry." I grimaced at the red area now visible on Jake's ribs.

"Who upset you now?" he joked, going to his bottle of water.

"Cullen," I spat. "I have to see him for breakfast."

"You could always apply this new punching method on him. Where did you pick it up from?"

I hid my smile. "From someone I know."

"Right. Your crush on this other vigilante dude is getting out of hand," he said seriously.

"Shut up." I untied my hair and grabbed my bottle of water. "Can you tell Rose I'd like only a granola bar with my coffee?"

"Like she'd listen to me," he mumbled but disappeared from our training room.

Jake was a few years younger than me, and he was my best friend. We'd practically grown up together. My dad had been over the moon when he heard Jake wanted to join the force, but they never got to work together.

It had felt natural to turn to my friend and seek help in training and learning how to fight. I've already studied various forms of martial arts, and my favorites so far were Japanese and Filipino. There were so many types in each culture, and some of them were downright difficult. But I applied everything I knew in combat during my nights on the streets, and I always won.

The times I returned home with my proverbial tail between my legs was the worst. Especially when I had to call Jake to come and pick me up from some hiding spot where I was licking my wounds.

During my shower after the morning workout, my anger returned tenfold. I wished I could apply some of my moves on Cullen and break his pretty face. His father had been one of the most honest attorneys this city had ever had. No surprise, the pariah had taken him out of the picture when Cullen was just a kid. Instead of trying to make his dad proud, the fool was playing his uncle's games while also maintaining his playboy role. But that had stopped when we'd gotten engaged.

To be honest …to this day, I'm still not sure how that happened.

The chief of police and Cullen's uncle met with us and gave us a long list of how joining our families, legacies, and money would help the city. We announced the engagement less than a week after that meeting.

I growled loudly, slapping my palm against the wet tile from the shower. I'd always dreamed of a burning love; one that consumed me…body and soul, and I got an iceberg more enormous than the one that sunk the titanic.

I would not touch Cullen more than necessary, and that would only happen in public. Initially, he'd tried to play his role to the extreme, but then he called me a frigid bitch when I refused to allow his meaty hands near my body.

He was the most handsome man I'd ever met; I wasn't going to lie – piercing green eyes, perfectly shaped lips, and a jaw that could cut glass. A sculptured body (I only knew that because I'd walked in on him getting dressed during an unfortunate moment of weakness when I needed a shoulder to cry on). But his personality and the fact that he was a womanizer quickly but out any fire I might have initially felt.

But my dream about real love burning inside my veins had a steel door shut in its face when I'd accepted the deal to marry Cullen.

When I arrived in the living room, I shouldn't have been surprised to find him already on the couch. He was wearing a crisp, pale pink dress shirt and a pair of charcoal dress pants. He glanced my way, and I berated myself how my breath caught at the smirk on his lips.

"Fancy seeing you, Miss Swan."

I rolled my eyes. "It's not like you're not inside my house or anything." I walked to the armchair closer to him, feeling extremely underdressed in my black yoga pants and over-washed Nirvana T-shirt.

I noticed Rose had listened to my request for only a granola bar along with my coffee. I reached for it, curling into the armchair.

"You're tired," Cullen said softly.

I focused on unwrapping my breakfast, avoiding his eyes. He was too fucking observant.

"Nightmares?" he insisted.

Sadly, I'd confessed to him how I had nightmares about what had happened to my father. It was a subject we could relate to. "No. Long night," I admitted, finally taking the granola bar from the wrapping.

"Me too," he said, amused, yawning into his fist. "I won't take a lot of your time. I only wanted to talk with you about the gala we're supposed to attend this weekend, before Carlisle's election."

I chewed slowly, watching him as he spoke. I had an eerie feeling he was intimately familiar to me, and it gave me the fucking creeps.

When he lifted a thick eyebrow, I cringed internally. I'd zoned out like one of his airheaded conquests, fantasizing about bouncing on his dick.

"Uh, right," I managed to utter. "You can pick me up around six?"

"Six is good," he agreed, watching me carefully.

I felt like he knew my darkest secrets at that moment, and it made me squirm uneasily.

This was supposed to be the end of our conversation, but for once, he didn't get up to leave. He kept sitting on my couch with his coffee in his hand. His suddenly intimidating green eyes were studying my every move.

"How have you been?" he asked in a soft voice. It sent a shiver down my spine. Something about how he intoned the question was familiar, and I had no clue where I'd heard that concerned voice covered by fake indifference.

I took a sip from my cup of coffee, regrading him curiously. Unlike other times when I reminded him this was a business deal and not a real relationship, I had the urge to tell him everything.

And it terrified me.

I chose to shrug. "I've been trying to find big names for the fundraiser at the end of the month." It wasn't a lie, and this had occupied most of my days for the past week.

"Can I see the list? I'm sure I can help with some," he offered, genuinely serious.

"I'll email it to you." There. That had to be a dead giveaway I was ready to wrap up this meeting.

Cullen placed his half-drunk coffee on the table. When he leaned forward, my breath caught, and I choked on my bite of cereal. On his neck were three thin scratch lines, which disappeared under his collar.

His eyes shot to mine, and I cleared my throat, trying to morph my face back to neutral politeness. They narrowed slightly before he got up and headed to the door. He stopped after a few steps, glancing back at me.

My heart fucking went still at the insane déjà-vu from a beautiful moment the previous night. "See you around."

My jaw dropped, and before I could produce words, he was gone.

As I regained my senses, my memories from the previous night invaded my brain. My fellow vigilante, dressed in a black suit that could put all superheroes to shame, had dropped from the sky at the perfect moment to assist me in the little one-on-one I was having with an old pal of my Dad's. He'd stopped the sleaze from attempting to take off my leather pants.

With adrenaline still pumping through our veins, we'd succumbed to an intense make-out session after we'd tied the scumbag to a light post and called the police. He'd insisted we leave a message for his fellow cops to know their friend was dirty.

The moral woman inside of me had refused to allow things from going further. It would have been insanely difficult anyway…with his suit and both of us wearing masks. But the mystery and our joined forces to save the city almost made my dream about burning love real.

I didn't even know who he was, yet he'd evoked more emotions from me than anyone else.

Especially Cullen.

Cullen…

I shivered, shoving the thought chiming inside my head like tolling bells. My dark knight wasn't Cullen. It couldn't be. He was too much into his uncle's dirty business to fight against it with such vengeance.

Unless he had a personality disorder…

But the scratches…I hadn't meant to scratch him, but our passionate kiss made me cling to him like he was the last drop of water on the earth.

And when he'd disappeared in the shadows, he'd glanced back at me saying the same thing Cullen had said earlier.

"See you around."

I shot out of my armchair, letting my cup drop to the carpet. I'd get hell from Rose, but I didn't care.

I rushed after Cullen and reached him just as he opened his fancy car's door. His surprised eyes met mine above the roof of his car, and they were so familiar I almost fainted.

From our early nights when we had crossed paths, he'd called me Kitty, joking about 'Baby Kitty has claws,' and I hadn't been afraid to show them. Even to him…when he tried to save me unnecessarily from some bad guy we were fighting. My nickname for him was Vengeance because there was no other way to describe his fighting style. It was like everyone had wronged him, and he was trying to get something in return from his fights.

I tried not to throw up when I opened my mouth. "Vengeance?" I whispered, unsure if he heard me.

His lips curled up, his nose twisting adorably. "See you later, Kitty."

Then he slid into his car.

I was left on my porch staring in shock at the dust cloud he'd left behind.

Fuck.

My partner in crime was my future partner in life.

And with the news of this information, my life would never be the same again.