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“Detective Aldente!”

I jolt, locking the computer just as my asshole Sergeant rounds the corner.

Sergeant Cacao.

“It’s Smith.” I spin in my chair, pushing my glasses up my nose, and correcting him for the five-hundredth time. I know it is a losing battle, but I fight it every day.

The uniform he wears is two sizes too small, his gut threatening to pop a button directly onto my face, but I force my attention away from it. He narrows his swampy eyes at me, heaving in and out a few times as a bead of sweat rolls down his rounded forehead.

“No, you’re an Aldente.” He jabs a finger at my head. “You were assigned to the digital division, but I haven’t received a single fucking update.”

We’re in the middle of the bullpen, one that is currently filled to the brim with other detectives who haven’t given him shit on this either. But he leaves them alone.

I am singled out. Just as I always am.

Once an Aldente. Always an Aldente.

Whether I denounced my crime family or not, it didn’t matter, this fucker would always look down on me.

Swallowing my pride, I breathe in and out.

“I—” My eyes flick back to the screen. “I think I may have found a viable line of information, but I will need to investigate further.”

“Is that so?” His ruddy cheeks fill like two overinflated balloons.

“Yes, I think I have uncovered a local hit man. But I’m not sure yet how it will progress.”

“This isn’t an action movie.” He bends over, exhaling a laugh, and spitting in my face. “You had one fucking job. Figure out where the poison is coming from. Not some wannabe assassin. Fucking green blood again. I thought it was gone. And now, six months later, we aren’t any closer to finding out where it’s coming from.”

I wince, but for an entirely different reason.

The Sergeant straightens up, facing my desk neighbor. “Detective Sumac.”

“Sir.” My coworker offers me an apologetic look.

“Detective Aldente will be reporting to you from here on out. I suggest you only bring to me what you deem important. We still have a John Doe to identify who started this all.” And then he stomps away leaving me in peace.

There is a tense silence left in his wake. It’s clear everyone had paused their work to listen in.

“Back to work!” Detective Sumac shouts before rolling closer to me. He whispers in a hushed tone, “Sorry John.” He uses my new name with a sympathetic smile. “I know you can’t catch a break. I don’t understand why you stick around.”

“The captain helped me out of a tight spot,” I clip back. And he had. In exchange, I promised to walk the straight and narrow. To put in the time as a cop and, now, as a detective.

I promised him five years on the force, doing well to offset the last five years I spent making countless mistakes…

Only a few months left to go.

Except I owe more than that.

Wiping my face with the back of my hand, I turn to Sumac.

Sumac’s gray eyes are filled to the brim with sympathy. “Look man—”

“Can we not?”

He snaps his mouth shut, reaching up and brushing a loose strand of burgundy hair out of his face, forcing it to join the rest that is waxed back. “I think you should hunt down the lead with the hit man. We haven’t found any chatter online. This might lead us exactly in the right direction and if not, we can track down their clients.”

His answer causes a warmth in my chest to expand. “Exactly my thoughts. Tell me again why you turned down the Sergeant promotion?”