LIACH POV ~~
It wasn't hard to get the job.
When you're a Cisco—trained since childhood to manipulate, adapt, and seduce—the world hands you doors. All you have to do is smile while you slip in the knife.
I wore a navy-blue blouse buttoned to the collar, my hair in a soft, professional bun, and glasses with clear lenses that made my eyes look larger, more innocent. A résumé filled with falsified internships and glowing recommendations crafted by our internal hacking division. The De Lunas were powerful, but they weren't invincible. Not from within.
The assistant recruiter took one look at me and smiled. Men like it when women look harmless.
The final interview was handled personally by his right-hand man—Marek. Scarred, gruff. His eyes lingered too long on my hands, my face, my calm.
"Why us?" he asked.
I tilted my head slightly, mimicking a shy smile. "I want to be where power moves. And I don't scare easily."
He didn't trust me, but he trusted Sinveer's instincts more.
Which worked in my favor. Sinveer requested to see my file.
The first time I stepped into his office, I felt it—the weight of his presence before I even saw him.
Floor-to-ceiling windows, black marble floors, the scent of sandalwood and something darker. Sinveer stood behind his desk, talking into a phone in that low, smooth voice that vibrated down my spine like an echo of that night. His back to me. Still, I knew he'd turned slightly the moment I entered.
He felt me too.
When he hung up and finally turned to face me, it was like time stopped.
His eyes dragged over me slowly, methodically—like a puzzle he couldn't quite put together. His gaze lingered on my mouth, then my eyes. I could see it—the itch at the back of his mind. That hunger to know.
"You're Liach," he said, voice like smoke. "Summa cum laude. Trilingual. Background in strategy and behavioral economics."
He said it all like it was a challenge. Like he expected me to flinch.
I didn't.
"I am," I replied, voice measured.
Another long pause.
"Take your glasses off."
I obeyed.
His pupils dilated.
Bingo.
His memory was reaching for me like fingers through fog. That primal part of him was screaming you've met her before. But the rational side—the part that needed evidence—was losing the argument.
"Fine," he said. "You start tomorrow. 7 A.M. sharp. Don't make me regret this."
That night, I sat in the luxury apartment the De Lunas provided—another perk of "trusted staff." I was under his roof now. In his territory.
I stood by the window, overlooking the city skyline. Below, the streets bled neon. Somewhere out there, people screamed, lovers moaned, and blood was spilled under shadows.
I was no longer pretending to be quiet, meek Liach the graduate.
I was back in the game.
Mission Report - From My Journal
Objective- Infiltrate Sinveer De Luna's inner circle. Gain access to all internal communications, plans, and security systems. Gather intel for the downfall of the De Luna empire.
Secondary Objective- Complete the unfinished job.
Kill him.
My father had made it clear, this was the final opportunity. My past failure had already humiliated him. My life was not truly mine anymore. It never had been.
But what Gabriel didn't understand—what he never would—is that I didn't want to kill Sinveer just for him.
I wanted to kill him because I liked it.
I wanted to feel his blood under my nails again. I wanted to see his strong body crumple in disbelief. I wanted to watch the light go out of those dark eyes the moment he realized she did it—the quiet girl in the navy blouse.
The one he let in.
THE NEXT MORNING – 7:00 A.M.~~
I arrived before he did.
Coffee, files, the day's schedule—all laid out on his desk like clockwork. I made myself invisible, efficient. That's the key to manipulation, become indispensable.
Sinveer walked in fifteen minutes late, eyes slightly bloodshot. No woman followed him. Interesting.
"Impressive," he muttered, noticing everything was already arranged.
I didn't answer. I just gave him the schedule, careful to brush his fingers with mine.
Static. Awareness. An invisible string tugged between us.
"You remind me of someone," he said suddenly, eyes boring into me.
I tilted my head. "Should I be flattered or concerned?"
A ghost of a smirk. "Both."
He stared too long.
He wanted to place me. I saw the storm building behind his eyes. But he didn't know yet that the lightning had already struck.