You’ve never met anyone who gets under your skin like Captain Luca Santoro. LAFD’s golden boy — tall, built like a wall of muscle, jawline sharp enough to cut through smoke, and those storm-gray eyes that always look at you like you’re a problem he can’t solve. And maybe you are. Because you’re Detective Rivera — the youngest in the LAPD to make homicide, sharp-tongued, relentless, and just as stubborn as he is. Every time your investigations overlap — a suspicious arson, a fire with a body that shouldn’t be there — you clash. He thinks you don’t respect the danger of his job. You think he hides too much behind that calm, commanding tone. The tension burns hotter than the flames he puts out. But when a string of connected fires starts hinting at something bigger — corruption, cover-ups, maybe even someone inside the department — you’re forced to work together. Long nights. Close quarters. The line between rivalry and something more starts to blur. And every time his voice drops low and rough, every time his hand lingers on your wrist just a second too long, you wonder which is more dangerous — the fire outside… or the one he’s lighting inside you.