Chapter Text
I’ll always remember the first time I laid eyes on Luiza Alves: it was a mild mid-September morning, and the leaves had just started to turn. The onslaught of fresh-faced students meandered around King’s College like chickens being released from their coop. The scent of pre-fresher’s naivety was poignant, and their quizzical yet determined expressions brought me endless joy.
I had spent my younger years on the front line of the Metropolitan Police, slapping the wrists of drunkards on Friday and Saturday nights, and throwing the more boisterous crowds into the back of cells. I endured years of admin and coursework that was, at times, worse than my grandmother’s post-menopausal dryness, but it was necessary to work my way up. I raided a few drug dens, gathered intel to help expose terrorist funding groups, and at the shit-hot age of twenty-eight, I had just become one of the National Crime Agency’s youngest undercover detectives.
Born in Bath to a Brazilian entrepreneurial mother and a Portuguese CEO father, I was brought up privileged but unspoiled. My eyes are mossy green, and people complimented them often, so I learned to use them to my advantage. I can speak almost fluently in five different languages, and I’d often get a kick out of keeping people guessing about where I came from. When I used to date people – before my job became my life, that is - I would play a character if I wasn’t so hot for the person in question. One time I pretended to be my own twin sister that doesn’t exist, and I confessed to lying about my being in law enforcement. I told her that I had been unemployed for several months due to failing several drug tests in my previous job. I don’t have much of a west country accent, seeing as I’ve lived in South Kensington long enough to sound like ‘your reading voice is perfect for Audible’. Most of the time, people are unaware of the roots from where I come – sometimes I forget it myself. However, I can put on a pretty convincing Carioca accent which really stirs the lads up at work. Thanks, mum.
But this isn’t about me, this is about Luiza Alves and that first day I met her.
It was the beginning of the semester, and I parked my motorcycle at the Strand Campus of Kings College on my way to meet my partner detective, Igor (real name: Pedro). I slipped my helmet off, tousled my hair, and threw my bag across my shoulder. Of course, this warranted a few looks because even in 2017, seeing a hot female student riding a motorcycle was like seeing Donald Trump turn pale and grey. To everyone else on campus, I was Valentina Rosa, a digital media and culture master’s student from Rio who spent her days hiding behind the lens of a camera, despite not being camera shy one bit. At least I was able to bring part of myself to my disguise: if I wasn’t an undercover detective, I was going to be a high-fashion photographer, so I pretty much fit the bill. Photography was what brought me to London in the first place.
I made my way across the fountain court to the East Wing of Somerset House and there she was, head buried deep into her campus map, trying to orienteer herself in whichever direction she needed to go. She was wearing a patterned – with what looked like purple polka dots – navy maxi dress. Her hair fell in smooth waves around her shoulders and down her back over her cream cardigan. She wore sneakers and her backpack looked heavier than she did. I was instantly drawn to her – perhaps it was the way the low morning light bounced off the neoclassical architecture behind her – but she looked like a picture from a postcard. When she looked up from her map, her eyes found mine and I held her gaze as I walked in her direction. A beautiful stranger, she appeared more flustered the longer our eyes kept on one another. She eventually broke away to check her surroundings as if to see if I had been fixated on something else. I stopped on the court just as the man who could quite literally pick a needle out of a haystack, my ‘brother’ Igor, approached her and tapped her on the shoulder to greet her with a hug. She turned and gave out what seemed to be a relieved sigh when she noticed who it was. While I worked behind the scenes to build my profile and gather intel, Igor had established himself within the exchange student body a few weeks ahead, helping them settle into their new accommodation, and had met Luiza by this means. Of course, this was her.
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“Turns out she’s not into guys.” He remarked one Friday evening while we chewed on a Five Guys in my South Kensington flat. We were scanning through our character profiles, and he candidly brought her up in conversation.
“Did she tell you that?” I asked, trying not to sound too interested. I felt the LGBT society would perhaps be a little too intense with the ten-year age difference between most students and me, but it would be nice to have a mature student as a ‘friend’ who also liked girls.
“No, but she didn’t have to,” he mumbled, mouth full of beef patty, “I don’t think she even knows it yet.”
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Igor was my right-hand man and though it was forbidden to create meaningful relationships on this job, I seized any opportunity for an ego boost. I bounced up to him while he chatted away to Luiza, and playfully pounced on his back. He twisted around defensively but as soon as he saw my face, he grinned.
“Speak of the devil!” He announced and tilted his head gesturing Luiza toward me.
I flipped the bird to him in jest before turning my attention to Luiza, and then I froze.
For a few moments, I could only stare while I felt like a shy college kid again. She was the most beautiful creature I had ever seen, and she was staring right back at me. Her eyes were dark like those of a doe-eyed-fawn, and her face was framed by her hair that was rich and voluminous in dark chocolate waves. Her skin was bright and smooth like porcelain and there was a hint of rose in her cheeks. Her lips… Perhaps I had been staring at them for too long, but her lips were full, slightly parted, and excruciatingly kissable.
“Your brother has mentioned a lot to me about you…” Luiza spoke, raising a brow while she observed me. She had a thick, Paulistano accent and her voice had a low rasp that could only be described as liquid honeycomb.
“Terrible things I hope,” I joked while putting on my best Carioca accent. Her eyes widened slightly as if she wasn’t expecting me to sound the way I did, or she wasn’t expecting me to flirt so forwardly. Of course, my accent was fake, but she seemed convinced. “Dois intercambistas brasileiros em Londres para atormentar meu irmão. Pobre Igor.” I continued. Her eyes narrowed again as she studied me, this time with a hint of scrutiny. Shit… had I fucked it up?
“I’d rather only speak English while I’m here, to improve my language.” She replied and broke my gaze to fold her map away. There was a coldness to her as if she were miles away but at the same time, the space between us was magnetic.
“I can see you two are going to get on swimmingly during your time here,” Igor grinned as I shot him a pointed look over my shoulder.
“I didn’t catch your name?” I said, turning my attention back to Luiza, and extending my hand to her. “I’m Valentina Rosa.”
She looked at my hand and then back up to me, almost amused.
“I know who you are,” she replied, and instead of accepting my invitation for a handshake, she placed a leaflet in my palm instead. It read:
‘Language Exchange Society, Wednesdays from 12:30 pm – 1:30 pm at the South Wing Entrance – Room C.03’
“In case you want to improve your English also.” She smiled only with her lips, while her eyes continued to examine me carefully. I would have been offended if the irony wasn’t so palpable.
“Danke Liebling. Vielleicht ein anderes Mal.” I replied smugly. Of course, I had to get one up on her, though she didn’t seem particularly impressed.
“Sicher.” She replied bluntly and I could hear Igor behind me clearing his throat. The fact that she understood I had just called her ‘darling’ in German made the skin on my neck prickle with heat, but I also found her replying to me in German was, well, sexy as hell.
“You still didn’t tell me your name.” I hinted again, trying to keep it cool though inside I was beginning to feel flushed. She peered behind me at Igor and then back to me.
“I’m sure Igor has told you a lot about me,” She pursed her lips. She was correct, but I wanted her to tell me her name. “Anyway, I must go for my inductions,” she announced and brushed past me to offer Igor a parting hug. “Was nice catching up with you.” She said to him while I stood in the same spot, my arm lightly nudging hers. Who was this girl?
“Luiza.” Igor nodded and smiled just as she turned back around to face me, without saying a word.
“Maybe see you around?” I asked, perhaps a little too eagerly.
“Maybe.” She replied with a tight-lipped smile before making her way into the East Wing entrance. Igor and I just stood there and watched on, enchanted.
“I told you…” Igor puffed out.
“I didn’t dispute it.” I sighed after holding my breath for what seemed like an eternity. “Do you think she wants me?”
“Val…” Igor started.
“I think she wants me.”
“Too bad for you, huh?” Igor nudged my shoulder.
“I both love and hate my job, y’know?”
“Please just remind me who you are right now, and then we can call it a day, right answers only.”
I scoffed.
“My name is Valentina Rosa,” I began my monologue in my newly perfected accent. “I’m a 26-year-old Brazilian student from Rio de Janeiro. I’m currently on exchange at King’s College London, where I’m finishing my master’s in digital media and culture, I have developed a serious crush on a beautiful Brazilian exchange student here but unbeknownst to me, I’m about to fall, not in love, but into an international drug trafficking ring. So tragic!” I sighed ironically. “And you don’t have to worry about Luiza, Igor - I don’t dip my pen in company ink.”
“How come they made you two years younger while I’m four years older?” Igor mumbled as we made our way up the East Wing stretch into Somerset House.
“NCA just gave you a tougher paper round.” I shrugged and sympathetically patted his shoulder.
“What’s Portuguese for asshole?” He laughed.
“Anjo.”
“Well, then… you’re an anjo.”
“I know.” I agreed. I was an angel indeed.
Here’s the funny part: my name is Valentina Torres. I’m a 28-year-old undercover detective for the NCA. I was born in the UK to a Brazilian mother and a Portuguese father. I’m working undercover as an exchange student at King’s College London for six months and have accidentally developed a serious crush on a fellow exchange student here. Unbeknownst to me, I’m about to fall head-over-heels in love with her, who, as it turns out, is associated with the international drug trafficking organisation I’ve been sent to investigate…