"Although I've never quite admitted it to you, I've always greatly admired your house." She smiled, her emerald gaze drifting over the exquisite antique decor. Delicate pieces believed to be dated all the way back to almost ancient times (And had cost quite a deal of money to have obtained) filled his house. A wine glass clung to the inside of her palm as she looked over at him appreciatively. "I'd almost go as far as to say envy." Her bright round eyes were glazed over like a thick sugar doughnut coating, giving away the woman did not drink too often and was already a bit tipsy from the rich wine they had been indulging in.

"Oh, believe me, I could tell since the first time you had visited. A person can most definitely tell when someone admires something. They get these little sparks in their eyes, like fireworks." He replied in his thick Italian accent. The corners of his eyes crinkled, showing the man's old age as he sent a genuine smile back to her. He was much older than she; a whole whopping 40 years. But Eden didn't mind as he was like a father figure to her. As her grandmother had always told her; the more wrinkles a person had, the wiser they were.

Although she loved everything the man had, one thing, in particular, had always captured her line of sight. And that was a small, pewter figurine of a Golden Retriever. It reminded her of her own Retriever she had previously owned. Her heart still longed to see the luscious yellow furred dog again, but she knew that he had fought his hard battle of stomach cancer long enough and it had been best to put the suffering canine out of his misery. She brought her open hand up to grasp the figurine from a shelf, twirling it around as she appreciated the structure and tiny little details it had. It had long ago lost its luster and now resembled a chunk of graphite, but she still adored it more than anything.

He studied her for a moment, as he then began to speak again. "Eden." He started but stopped as though he was contemplating whether to continue or not. The man peered down at his own wine glass, swishing around the ruby red liquid that it's crystal clear structure contained. His happy, carefree expression had vanished just as fast as it came and was now replaced, his weary face bearing a quite grave expression. Eden became worried. They had been close friends for many years now, it's come to the point that she could always pick up when he was bothered by something.

"What is it, John?" She had put down the dog as she said this, placing it back on the oak shelf. She wanted to make sure all her attention was focused on him at this point and to have her thoughts flickering back to her dead dog would surely not help the matter.

"When I pass-" He spoke again.

She flinched. His words pierced a sensitive spot in her heart. "Oh John, how many times do I have to tell you. You can't spend all your time worrying about death!"

He cut her off right then before she could go on. "And I understand that, Eden. But when I do pass, I want you to take over the department; to be the new chief. I believe you could handle it quite well." He offered her an honest smile, pausing to take a sip of his wine. "I have also decided to give you my entire will. Although we're not related by blood, you're vastly more trustworthy than your stepbrother Rowen has proven to be and I've come to the conclusion that you deserve all I have to give more than that stray dog..." He chuckled at this, but she wasn't laughing.

"But John, are you sure?" Her voice had hushed down to a whisper as if somebody could possibly hear their conversation, though they were completely alone. She had never even allowed herself to so much as dream of becoming headmaster of the police department. Such a high position deserved someone built for the job, someone who knows what they are doing. She had the smarts for it sure, but does she really have what it takes?

And his will? That was probably millions of dollars, she wasn't anywhere near deserving of such a high amount of money. Though it would help at home, her being a single mother.

As though he could read her mind, he cut her thoughts off. "I know the money would go in good hands. Especially since you have a young one at home. I plan to have my will finished early next week. Not like I plan on dying though." He took a sip of his wine, snickering into his glass for some sort of comical relief. But she was only staring at him in disbelief, so he continued. "It will state inside the new chief, and who will get my estate, being you my dear." Even though it was near being completely empty, he held up his wine glass towards her. "A toast, to a rich life."

So she brought her glass to his, clinking together the crystal glasses in silence as they drank.

⇼ ⇼ ⇼

It was an early Sunday morning in New Orleans, Louisiana. The sky was saturated with different arrays of colors, from the orange juice like hue of the sun to the vibrant shades of pink cascading along the upper atmosphere. But, despite it being a Sunday, it was definitely a busy day. The streets were buzzing with cars and pedestrians, soothing notes of light jazz already emitting from the depths of Bourbon street.

Along with the clashes of different sounds, was the dull but yet distinctly sharp sound of designer heels hitting blacktop pavement. The shoes belonged to Eden Gilley; fashion expert. Or so she always proclaimed. She was headed on her way to work and was dressed head to toe in all black, from her tight leather mini skirt to her prim and perfect business like dress shirt.

Eden has been known to make her way around even the ugliest of dress regulations.

Her hair, long and blond, shimmered just right in the blazing heat of the sun, her skin sun-kissed and tanned. She's actually been questioned countless times if she is or was a model, and would get baffled guffaws in return when her answer but a firm but polite no.

Oh, and I should probably add, Eden is a CIA agent.

But she hasn't always been into the grueling details of real-life crime. In fact, (Surprise, surprise) since birth she has always had a strong passion for clothing design. As a child when she lived in New York, her mom had been a very well-known clothing designer, even showing up in a famous clothing magazine at one point. So, naturally, her mom's love for it passed down to her. But as time moved on, her obsession with fashion and clothing began to diminish. Instead, it was replaced with a new passion; a passion for crime.

Eden loved getting into people's heads, and she was good at it too. Her clever, smart tongue could make even the toughest of criminals crack under pressure before her very eyes. And with how good she was at it, it wasn't long before more people found out about her. One person, and a very important being at that, in particular being John Glesser; headmaster of the New Orleans police bureau.

Just as she was about to open the door to the police headquarters, she noticed out of the corner of her eye a figure quickly approaching her. When she turned her head to look, she could see from quite a distance away yet one of her coworkers jogging from a distance. She sighed to herself, holding the door open with the base of her foot as she stood there, arms crossed.

"Late again, Cameron?" She called teasingly as he struggled to catch up to her. He had on the typical business attire, suit and all, his tie swaying with each stride furiously.

He called back quickly. "No, actually. Rowan called me in today - said it was important!"

She frowned slightly. Rowan and she have known each other for quite a long time. Not as long as she had known John, but it was still a long time. He would normally tell her everything so the fact that he hadn't yet told her of the 'important news' bothered her to an extent. But she let it go, it couldn't have been that important if she didn't know about it yet.

"I haven't heard." She said as he finally approached her.

He tried to cover it up, but his voice was labored and he was gasping for breaths of air as he struggled to respond. "Well, looks like someone got forgot about." He snickered as he started inside the building.

She shook her head but smiled. She was used to his sarcastic jokes.

As they walked in, the heels of her shoes echoed authoritative like throughout the hallway of the building. The interior of the hallway was jaw-droppingly beautiful: the walls were, like the waves of the ocean, painted a brilliant shade of deep aquatic blue, the floor made of 100% marbled granite and pyrite. But the ceiling was the most magnificent part of it. It could be easily compared to that of an old roman catholic church ceiling, rusty colours of orange and red with intricate designs and shapes scrolled along the sides of it (There actually have been many rumors circulating around for years that the building really was an old church, but nobody everybody claimed it to be true.) On the very top was a round sheet of glass as a makeshift window, a bright ray of light snaking through.

They walked through the hallway in silence for the longest time, only stopping every few minutes to have their cards checked for confirmation that they indeed worked there. It was a new technical system put in. You swipe your card like you would at a grocery or convenience store, and it confirms whether or not you work there. You're probably thinking, "With nobody around, couldn't you just smuggle someone in?" Yes, and no. There are cameras hidden in each and every hallway, one watching from the front, another watching from the back. If you don't work there, your outline shows up as red, signaling to the people behind the camera you don't belong. Once you show up as red, the doors shut and lock and you're basically stuck there until the police arrive. Sounds complicated, but not really. It just automatically scans for a card chip.

The government makes sure that nobody that doesn't belong would ever get in. And with the new complex technology in use, nobody has yet.

It wasn't long before her curiosity got the best of her. "So...what exactly is this news?" She asked then. She stopped and turned to look at him. Well, his hair anyway; she had never been good with direct eye contact. One of her few, but worst flaws. John would always get on her case about it.

His hair was golden brown and upturned, and just like Eden's, it too shined brilliantly in just the right glimmer of sunshine. Eyes green and bold, a faint but definitely noticeable orb of gold wrapping around the black part of his pupil. Although he wasn't exactly all that buff or muscular, he was for sure striking.

Ever since she had been working there, Cameron and she had been close acquaintances for a while now. Not the type of acquaintance you could invite to a house party, but the kind you could invite for a casual morning cup of Joe. Though they weren't the closest, they were aiming for a closer friendship. But with a job like the police agency, you kind of have to like everyone you work with or at least pretend to.

He looked back to her but meeting her eyes, forest green gaze soaking through her chocolate brown haze, saturating her with warmth. "To be honest, I'm not entirely sure...he didn't go too much into detail on the matter. But supposedly everyone was called in for an emergency meeting." He shrugged as he oddly broke their eye contact, dumbfounded. "Like I said, sounds pretty important."

Eden's pink lips turned down into a slight frown, her thick, perfected eyebrows crinkling in confusion. "All of us? Why would all of us be called in?" The department had about hundreds of workers, so a person would imagine how strange it would be for everyone to be called in for a group meeting.

"Because the headmaster of the Police Bureau, Mr. John Glesser, died last night."

The two both jumped and whirled around as a deep and husky voice sounded behind them, meeting the steely grey eyes of Rowan.

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Thank you for reading - feel free to vote if you thought it was okay! :)