Liora
Liora lay on the plush bed, staring at the velvet canopy, the faint metallic scent of blood still lingering from the attack earlier. The assassin's body had been removed, the marble floor scrubbed clean, but her heart still pounded in time with the memory of the blade glinting in the light.
The room's double doors clicked open without a knock.
Nikolai walked in. His white shirt sleeves were rolled up, faint streaks of red still marring the cuff a reminder he had handled the situation himself. His dark eyes locked on her like a predator assessing prey.
Why didn't You didn't scream, he said simply, voice low, almost curious.
She raised an eyebrow. "Should I have?
He stepped closer, stopping just at the foot of her bed. "Most women would have fainted. You… just stood there and watched.
Liora sat up, pulling the silk robe tighter around her. "Maybe I've seen worse.
Nikolai's gaze sharpened, as if filing that piece of information away for later. Then he smirked. "Or maybe you're more dangerous than you look.
Her pulse skipped. She could almost hear the system's mission reminder in her head: Seduce him. Betray him. Deliver him to the FBI.
Easier said than done when the man in front of her radiated lethal charm.
"You're my fiancée," he continued, as though he was stating an undeniable fact rather than a convenient lie. "That means you're under my protection. But it also means…
He walked around the bed, stopping at her side, leaning down until his lips were near her ear. "…you're under my control.
She forced herself to hold his gaze when he straightened. "And if I don't like being controlled?
He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Then I'll have to make you like it.
The air between them thickened. She decided to push him just a little. "What if I told you I think you set up that attack?
For a moment, his expression froze, then he laughed, low and dangerous. "You think I need theatrics to keep you close? If I wanted you afraid, Liora, you wouldn't be sitting here in silk. You'd be in chains.
The image sent a shiver down her spine, though she quickly masked it.
Nikolai moved toward the door, but paused with his hand on the frame. "Get some sleep. Tomorrow, you'll be coming with me to a meeting. No more staying behind like a kept pet.
"Is that your way of saying I'm useful?" she called after him.
He glanced over his shoulder, his smirk returning. "Not yet. But I intend to find out.
The next morning, Liora found herself in the backseat of his sleek black car. The city blurred past the tinted windows towering glass buildings, neon signs, and the occasional flash of armed guards on street corners.
She had dressed carefully: a fitted black dress with a slit up the thigh, just enough to draw attention without screaming desperation.
"You clean up nicely," Nikolai remarked without looking away from his phone.
"I always do," she replied.
His lips twitched. "Confidence suits you. But in my world, confidence without loyalty gets people killed.
She met his gaze, feigning innocence. "Then it's a good thing I'm loyal.
For now, she added silently.
The car pulled into an underground parking lot beneath a luxury restaurant. Inside, a long table awaited them, surrounded by men who looked like they'd stepped out of a mobster casting call sharp suits, cold eyes, and visible holsters.
Liora sat beside Nikolai as the meeting began. She kept her head slightly bowed, playing the role of the beautiful, silent ornament, while her ears caught every detail. Shipments. Bribes. A name Agent M.
Her heartbeat quickened.
When the meeting ended, she lingered just long enough to "accidentally" overhear one last piece: a shipment route and a date.
Back in the car, Nikolai leaned toward her. "You were very quiet.
"Isn't that what you wanted?" she asked.
"Yes," he said slowly, studying her. "But quiet people see things. And I can't decide if that makes you valuable… or dangerous.
She gave him a sweet smile. "Maybe both.
He chuckled, shaking his head. "One day, Liora, I'm going to figure out exactly what game you're playing.
She looked out the window, hiding the tiny smile tugging at her lips. Not if I win first.
The clink of crystal glasses and the low hum of a jazz saxophone filled the dimly lit lounge. Nikolai had taken Liora to one of his private clubs the kind that didn't need a name outside because everyone who mattered already knew it.
He sat across from her, the amber light catching in his whiskey as his lips curled into a smirk.
"You look like trouble tonight," he said, voice low enough to make the words curl like smoke.
She leaned back on the leather booth seat, her red dress catching every flicker of light. "And yet, she drawled, "you keep inviting trouble to dinner.
Nikolai chuckled, swirling his drink. "That's because trouble keeps me entertained.