J. Cat had been briefed about a local contact—someone who could navigate Capri’s underworld with ease. He’d been told to look for Fia, a name spoken with equal parts respect and fear. She was a kickboxing expert and rumored to be one of the toughest women on the island.
As if on cue, a woman emerged from the shadows of a nearby alley. Fia was breathtaking. With sun-kissed skin, striking green eyes, and a lithe, muscular frame, she radiated confidence. Her movements were fluid, precise, as if each step was calculated for maximum efficiency. She wore black combat pants and a fitted leather jacket, exuding a no-nonsense attitude that matched J. Cat’s own.
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