~~Sinveer POV~~
They say your body remembers trauma better than your mind would ever.
Mine does.
It remembers that night, the sting of her blade. She didn't shoot me. She came close. Close enough that I could smell her skin, felt the heat of her breath when she whispered, "Goodbye!" She meant it to be the end.
Instead, it began the beginning.
For two years, I've searched for her. unofficially, of course. I kept the incident quiet, let the rumors die.
I searched every part of this country, left not stone untouched, but yet I could not find her.
She just vanished. As if she doesn't exist in the first place.
My men thought it was a failed hit by a rival gang. That I'd gotten lucky.
But I knew better.
She wasn't just some backwater assassin. She was different.
The air around her, her precisions, her skills? It was perfect, it is beautiful.
Assassins don't whisper. They don't hesitate. They don't leave behind a scent that makes your chest tight for months after.
She wasn't just an assassin. She was a fucking ghost.
And one, that I want to fuck.
And I can't stop chasing her shadow.
Now, she's back. She doesn't look like the girl who attacked me—but I know. Deep in my gut, I know.
My mind is screaming at him. " Sinveer that is the girl, the one you have been looking for."
It's her. She's back.
And she's sitting at the desk with her glasses outside my office, organizing files like she didn't try to slit my throat once.
But my logic keeps saying otherwise.
"Sir," Marek says, dragging me out of my thoughts. "We caught the rat. The one that passed intel to Cisco."
"Bring him in," I mutter, rising.
Nothing clears my head like blood.
The warehouse was quiet when I arrived.
The rat is tied to a metal chair, blood already dripping from his nose. Marek stands beside him, arms crossed, waiting for my permission to begin.
Which I haven't given.
I step forward slowly, eyes on the man's swollen face.
"Why? Why did you do it?"
"I... I needed the money," he whimpers.
I nod. But I don't care.
"Do you know what they're saying about me?" I ask softly.
He shakes his head.
"That I'm slipping. That I've gone soft. That I let someone walk away after stabbing me like I was some street rat."
I leader closer to him. " And you are taking me for one."
His eyes widen. "I...I never meant to—"
I didn't let him finish. I grab a hammer from the worktable and bring it down hard on his knee.
The kneel crack sound was loud. And satisfying.
He screams.
"I want to know what Gabriel Cisco's planning," I say calmly. "Names. Locations. Targets."
"I..I don't know! They blindfolded me every time—
Another Crack. This time his other knee.
He sobs, writhing in the chair.
"Don't insult me," I growl.
"I'm telling the truth! They didn't trust me! They just paid me to leave USBs under a bench in the park!"
Marek steps closer whispering in my ear. "He's been consistent boss. Even under sedation."
I study him again. Study his body language, his facial expressions.
And he's not lying. That's the problem.
The Ciscos are getting smarter.
And bolder too.
My thoughts drift back to the lipstick message left on the mirror after the murder of that accountant last night.
'Tell De Luna his time is coming.'
Too theatrical for Gabriel.
Too precise for Dante.
But perfect her?
I believe she'd do it just to see my reactions.
~~The De Luna's~~
Back at the office, I've been watching her.
Liach. Liach Brain.
She moves like a dancer—graceful, calculated. Too self-aware for someone so new to this world.
To light feeted for someone who is jus a nerd, who's just looking for a good pay.
She makes coffee with military efficiency. Files are alphabetized, color-coded. She's flawless. Too flawless.
I watch her type and imagine those hands wrapped around a blade instead of a pen.
What would she look like soaked in blood?
For fucksake. Why does the thought turn me on?
It's fucking dangerous—this curiosity. It's not just suspicion anymore. It's interest.
And that makes me furious.
I don't like not knowing. I don't like games where I don't control the board.
So I start testing her.
The next day at the HQ
"Ms Liach, come to the meeting," I say casually, "I want you to take notes."
Her eyes flick up, as if my words took her off guild. There was a moment of hesitation. It was small, but it was there.
"Yes, sir," she says, standing.
I lead her to a back room where my captains wait. Hard men with old scars and sharp eyes.
Men that will scare any and every common girl.
Then I introduce her. "This is Liach Brain. She's the new assistant, but brilliant. You can say anything in front of her."
Marek glances at me like I've lost my mind. But I don't care.
Why? Because I want to see her every move. How she behaves with confidential information. Her reactions to some affluent names.
I want to see how she reacts under pressure.
I want to see if the scent of violence brings back the girl I think she is.
During the meeting, we discuss territory movements, suspected leaks, upcoming weapons, shipments.
And with all efficiency? She takes notes like a machine.
But when Marek brings up the Cisco's, I watch her closely.
Her pen falters. Barely. But it's there.
"Someone left a message in lipstick," Marek says, passing around photos. "Clean kill. The guy was gutted."
I look at her. Expecting a reaction.
But there was nothing.
Not a flinch. Not a smirk. Not even fear.
But the pulse in her vain ticks at her neck, faster than before.
"HAhh." I scoffed, staring at her intently.
" Boss, is something wrong?" Marek asked drawing my attention from her to him.
" No. Carry on with the briefing.
" Yes boss."
As the briefing continues my gaze darts to her from time to time, until the meeting ended.
"Ms. Liach, you ever seen anything like that?" I ask her.
She looks up and smiles faintly. "No. But it was new. Unprofessional and intense."
Bold words. But clever. She's trying to steer the narrative.
" What made you think so?"
"When I applied to be you assistant. I did expected a lot of things but not this much."
" This much?"
"I mean look at the man that was killed, it was brutal, the shipment, some of the affluent names that was mentioned, the message left on the wall, even the part about torture and all! I wasn't expecting that. I hope my life won't be at risk, going forward?"
What a good pretender. Oh God. I want to drag her from the table, pin her against these mirrors, and see if when she bleeds it's blood or lies. when I cut into her for the truth, if she'd still be this composed.
But I will give it more time, to see if it's just my mind playing tricks or she is actually who I think she is.
Instead, I just nod to her answers.
"You're right. Maybe it was just a desperate message. And don't worry, no harm will come your way."
*
That night, I watch the security footage from outside the accountant's building again.
Frame by frame.
There. A figure in black. Moving fast. Hair pinned up. Body small and lean.
I zoom in on the profile.
Too grainy. But that walking pattern… it's the walk that fucks with me.
I've seen that walk before. In heels. Down my hallway. Carrying coffee.
I slam my fist into the desk.
Could it really be her?
Could I really be that unlucky and lucky? Or that blessed?
Because the more I think about it… the more I don't want her to be just some killer.
I want her to be Mine.
~
Then I decided to start pushing her harder after that.
More tasks. Longer hours. Close Proximity between us
I tell myself it's surveillance. Strategic. That I needed proof.
But the truth?
I just want to watch her move.
Want to catch her slipping. Want to know how she breathes,what to know the difference looks in her eyes. Want to break her wide open.
And I think she wants it too.
Because the way she glances at me. The subtle shifts in her voice when she says my name.
The way her tongue flicks over her lower lip when I step too close.
There's heat under that skin. Fire.
But what kind of fire? is it lust?
Or hate?
Maybe Both?
Either way, I'll feed it. And when she has taken the bait, I will pull the leash so hard, there will be no familiar ground for her to stand on.
---
Three nights later, I accidentally run into her in the hallway after work hours.
She's in leggings and a hoodie, hair in a bun, holding a folder.
"Still working? Even not in working hours?" I ask.
She nods. "You said the shipment manifests were urgent."
"But why are you here? Shouldn't you be at your quarters if you are working overtime, Ms. Liach?" I said my tone flat.
"I was on my way to my quarters, sir." Her voice also even.
" Humm. Is that so?"
"Yes sir, is there a problem?"
Always so fucking prepared and perfect.
I step closer. "You ever get tired of being perfect, Liach?"
Her eyes flick to mine. " What do you mean by that, Mr De Luna? I'm just doing my job here."
Her brow furrowed, face like a taunted cat. Which was cute.
"Nothing." I said, just wondering if every nerd are like you." As I stepped away from her.