She’s the Met’s most dangerous secret. Detective Marilyn Peters is a 5'7" light-skinned Black woman with dangerous curves, hypnotic doe eyes, and a smile that can stop a man’s heart — or end his life. By day, she wears the badge with effortless grace. By night, she feeds an addiction born in childhood: the exquisite thrill of watching something struggle… then go perfectly, beautifully still. When a man is found stabbed and staged in a locked Dalston flat, Mari stands over the body and feels the old hunger roar back to life. The blood sings to her. The silence seduces her. As she hunts the killer — a cold, efficient predator named Marks — she finds herself dangerously drawn to him. His work is clean. Artistic. Almost intimate. At the same time, Sergeant O’Malley’s warm Irish lilt and lingering looks make her pulse race with a different kind of hunger. Now Mari is torn between two men: one she wants to catch… and one she wants to become. Because some women crave love. Some crave power. Mari craves the moment the thrashing stops. And she’s getting very, very good at making it happen.