Title: The Commander's Truth
Series: Brothers in Blue
Author: K. Langston
Genre: Romantic Suspense
Tropes: Second Chance Romance; Enemies-to-Lovers; He Falls First; Praise Kink; Forced Proximity; Workplace Romance; Found Family; Protective Alpha Hero
Release Date: March 12, 2026
My badge is on the line. So is my heart.I never expected to see her again.
Not after she walked away from me all those years ago, leaving a hole where my heart used to be.
But fate has a twisted sense of humor.
Now she’s back.
The woman who shattered me.
And she’s been assigned to investigate the case that could destroy everything I’ve built.
I should be angry.
But instead, I’m drowning in memories I never buried deep enough.
The way she used to look at me.
The way I still ache for her.
The way I never stopped loving her.
Even when I tried.
As danger closes in and the truth unravels, we’re forced to trust each other again.
But trust is a dangerous thing.
Because I’m not just fighting for my badge anymore.
I’m fighting for the woman who broke me.
And praying that I’m strong enough to claim her for good.
Or finally let her go forever.
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The harsh light above seems brighter. More severe. Maybe because I’m on the opposite side of the table. I’ve been inside this room countless times, but never for this reason, never in this chair. The knowledge makes me feel uneasy, but I remain calm.
Cool.
Leaning back in the chair, I try to force my muscles to relax, but when the door swings open and I see her, my calm demeanor goes straight out the fucking window.
“Good afternoon, Commander Cunningham.”
Her familiar voice sends a jolt through me.
“I’m Agent Karmen Ashford with Internal Affairs,” she states, displaying her badge for me to inspect. “This is Agent Roberto Ramirez.”
My heart pounds erratically as I grind my teeth, my entire body tense.
Is she trying to pretend we don’t know each other? As if we didn’t share a goddamn bed for a year. Like I haven’t been inside her in every way a man can be inside of a woman.
It’s been five years since we last laid eyes on each other. How long has she been working for IA Metro? Right underneath my goddamn nose?
She takes a seat in front of me while her partner occupies the chair in the corner. It’s obvious who the alpha is of the two, but she’s not the only alpha in this room.
After flipping open the file, she folds her hands in front of her, meeting my gaze head-on with those cold silver eyes. The same eyes that once looked up at me in complete submission. That once begged for my mercy, my tenderness. Eyes that stole my heart so she could crush it in her tiny little fist.
“Commander, we have reason to believe you’ve been stealing large amounts of fentanyl from the evidence locker and selling it back to the dealers on the street,” she says, raising an arched brow.
My mind is still spinning. Part of me wants to put an end to this now. If I reveal we know each other and that we were in a previous relationship, that is a direct conflict of interest.
She knows that.
What is her endgame? Why would she take this case, knowing it was me she’d be investigating?
I open my mouth to expose her, expose us, but the words stay lodged in my throat. Crossing my arms over my chest, I narrow my eyes at her.
I could start fires for what I once felt for this woman and burn down cities with the pain she left in her wake.
She shifts in her seat, darting her silver eyes from my intense glare, while the familiar scent of her perfume hijacks my senses, my cock twitching in response. The need to touch her is wreaking havoc on my self-control. My mouth waters, tasting the satisfaction I would get from having her bent over this desk, creamy ass exposed, and my handprint decorating her honey-gold skin.
Despite the contempt I feel for this woman, she still takes my breath away.
She's dressed in a black suit with a crisp white button-down, like the daily uniform she wore when we worked together. She’s feminine yet powerful. Strong and yielding. Dominant and submissive.
I wonder if she’s wearing something pretty and lacy underneath.
Fuck, I bet she’s wearing pink.
My favorite color on her.
She would be so cruel.
Her rich brown hair is pulled back in a tame ponytail, not a single strand out of place, and the square tortoise-frame glasses perched on her freckled nose only serve to irritate me more.
Why does she have to be so goddamn beautiful?
When I don’t respond, she asks, “Can you explain your digital fingerprint being used to gain access to the evidence locker?”
I shrug. “Someone must have cloned it.”
“Seems a little far-fetched, don’t you think, Commander?”
I grind my teeth so hard I feel like my jaw might crack. She knows I didn’t do this. She knows I’m being set up because she fucking knows me.
She’s trying to rattle me.
Push me.
Shred my precious control.
I remain still.
Composed.
She wants to play games.
Let’s fucking play.
Cool.
Leaning back in the chair, I try to force my muscles to relax, but when the door swings open and I see her, my calm demeanor goes straight out the fucking window.
“Good afternoon, Commander Cunningham.”
Her familiar voice sends a jolt through me.
“I’m Agent Karmen Ashford with Internal Affairs,” she states, displaying her badge for me to inspect. “This is Agent Roberto Ramirez.”
My heart pounds erratically as I grind my teeth, my entire body tense.
Is she trying to pretend we don’t know each other? As if we didn’t share a goddamn bed for a year. Like I haven’t been inside her in every way a man can be inside of a woman.
It’s been five years since we last laid eyes on each other. How long has she been working for IA Metro? Right underneath my goddamn nose?
She takes a seat in front of me while her partner occupies the chair in the corner. It’s obvious who the alpha is of the two, but she’s not the only alpha in this room.
After flipping open the file, she folds her hands in front of her, meeting my gaze head-on with those cold silver eyes. The same eyes that once looked up at me in complete submission. That once begged for my mercy, my tenderness. Eyes that stole my heart so she could crush it in her tiny little fist.
“Commander, we have reason to believe you’ve been stealing large amounts of fentanyl from the evidence locker and selling it back to the dealers on the street,” she says, raising an arched brow.
My mind is still spinning. Part of me wants to put an end to this now. If I reveal we know each other and that we were in a previous relationship, that is a direct conflict of interest.
She knows that.
What is her endgame? Why would she take this case, knowing it was me she’d be investigating?
I open my mouth to expose her, expose us, but the words stay lodged in my throat. Crossing my arms over my chest, I narrow my eyes at her.
I could start fires for what I once felt for this woman and burn down cities with the pain she left in her wake.
She shifts in her seat, darting her silver eyes from my intense glare, while the familiar scent of her perfume hijacks my senses, my cock twitching in response. The need to touch her is wreaking havoc on my self-control. My mouth waters, tasting the satisfaction I would get from having her bent over this desk, creamy ass exposed, and my handprint decorating her honey-gold skin.
Despite the contempt I feel for this woman, she still takes my breath away.
She's dressed in a black suit with a crisp white button-down, like the daily uniform she wore when we worked together. She’s feminine yet powerful. Strong and yielding. Dominant and submissive.
I wonder if she’s wearing something pretty and lacy underneath.
Fuck, I bet she’s wearing pink.
My favorite color on her.
She would be so cruel.
Her rich brown hair is pulled back in a tame ponytail, not a single strand out of place, and the square tortoise-frame glasses perched on her freckled nose only serve to irritate me more.
Why does she have to be so goddamn beautiful?
When I don’t respond, she asks, “Can you explain your digital fingerprint being used to gain access to the evidence locker?”
I shrug. “Someone must have cloned it.”
“Seems a little far-fetched, don’t you think, Commander?”
I grind my teeth so hard I feel like my jaw might crack. She knows I didn’t do this. She knows I’m being set up because she fucking knows me.
She’s trying to rattle me.
Push me.
Shred my precious control.
I remain still.
Composed.
She wants to play games.
Let’s fucking play.
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K. Langston writes contemporary romance and romantic suspense, weaving emotionally charged stories filled with unforgettable characters, undeniable chemistry, and heart-pounding twists. Whether it's small-town charm, intense love affairs, or gripping suspense, her books deliver the perfect blend of heat, heart, and tension. When she's not writing, K. can be found in her garden, devouring books or baking homemade cookies with her two grandchildren.
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