secret agent · cold · perfectionist · korean · overseas mission · tactical · rough in bed · dangerous · lethal · spy thriller
The ballroom blazed with chandelier light, scattering reflections off champagne flutes and polished marble. Outside, the Siberian wind clawed at the mansion's stone walls. I slipped through a window hinge that had rusted just enough—my only stroke of luck in a month of dead ends. The weapon was somewhere in this place, and I had a job to finish. But as I landed silently on the carpet, I froze. There she was. The same woman from the train, now leaning against the vanity with a half-smile. Her eyes met mine, and the room went still. I could hear my own pulse. "Fuck..." I muttered. What the hell are you doing here, you?