AVERY'S POV.
You know that thing where everything feels perfect in your life? You have a loving mother, a caring father, and a brother who's always messing with you—always there to play, tease, and laugh. All the toys you could ever wish for were given to you. Breakfast was served in bed. There were stairs to run down when Papa came home from work.
Yes, that was me.
Until that very night when everything I had was lost.
I remember everything vividly.
There was a fan signing event for BLACKPINK fans. I begged my mom and dad to take me. They refused, saying we should have a movie night instead. But you know how it is—when you really want something, you find a way to make it happen.
Yes, I was that kind of child.
With a little help from my elder brother, we convinced our parents to drive us to the fan signing. It was a long drive. The night air was cool, and the road shimmered under the streetlights.
Then, suddenly, the tires lost grip.
Boom.
We crashed into a tree.
Dad was bleeding—so badly. I tried to move, to help him, but I couldn't. I was stuck. My body wouldn't respond.
My brother cried.
I swear, I had never seen him cry before—not once in my life. And sadly, that was the first and last time.
Then I saw him.
A man dressed in black. A dragon tattoo stretched across his chest. He looked at me and smiled—a cold, eerie smile that made my skin crawl.
Then, a sharp pain pierced my head.
My eyes betrayed me.
I fell into darkness.
The next time I woke up, I was in a hospital bed. Doctors and nurses surrounded me, performing surgery. The lights were blinding, the air smelled of antiseptic, and everything felt surreal.
But then again, I heard a loud, sharp sound—like metal clashing or a monitor screeching.
And I fell back into sleep.
The next moment I woke up, everything had flipped.
I discovered that my family was gone.
I had been the only one to survive the accident.
The pain was unbearable. It felt like just two minutes ago, I was with my family—laughing, playing, living. And now... I was alone.
I was taken to an orphanage. Life wasn't easy. But thanks to my wit and smart mouth, I pulled through every obstacle thrown my way.
Eventually, I entered foster care. That journey was no walk in the park either. But I managed. I picked up odd jobs to pay for school, juggling work and studies like a circus act.
I graduated as valedictorian.
Later, I earned a scholarship to Stanford University.
I studied forensic science and criminology, and graduated with First Class Honors.
You know how life can be—unpredictable. Finding a job wasn't easy. But with a few solid recommendations (and let's be honest, who rejects a Stanford graduate?), I landed a position as a CSI—Crime Scene Investigator.
Well, that's the story of me.
Oh, right—I probably forgot to introduce myself.
My name is Avery Lane. Just your average girl... or so people think.
Suddenly, the door creaked open.
It was Reese—my roommate. She's also a CSI.
She leaned against the doorframe and said, "Aren't you just imagining yourself giving a crowd of people your life biography? 'Cause girl, you're running late for work."
I snapped back into reality, sat up in bed, and groaned. "Well, what would I do without you?"
I hugged Reese and kissed her cheek.
She pulled back, her face twisted in mock disgust. "Damn girl, you gotta shower. Your breath could kill an innocent fly passing by. I told you to brush your teeth after eating tuna fish last night, but nooo—you were having too much fun, started drinking, and got drunk."
I laughed. "Eeish, Reese, chill out. I'mma take a shower. But wait for me—drive me to work, please? I'm not in the mood to drive myself."
Reese rolled her eyes but smiled. "Well, I can make an exception. After all, you work a lot. And it's only been a week since you got that job with the CIA."
I froze. "Girl, what did I say? You're not supposed to tell anyone I work for the CIA. It's dangerous. You signed the confidentiality form—remember? Stick to the terms you were given."
"Alright, sure thing," she said, raising her hands in surrender.
I bolted to the bathroom. Within minutes, I had hit the shower and was already prepping my outfit.
I wore a crisp white shirt tucked into a short black skirt, layered with a sleek black jacket. Heels, of course. I pulled a Kim Kardashian—styled my hair, threw on some glasses, grabbed my handbag, and strutted out.
Reese drove us to work.
No one would ever guess I worked for the CIA.
To the world, I was just an ordinary CSI.
She dropped me off at the gate. I signed in, passed identification, and greeted the guard.
The building looked like any other corporate office—neutral, polished, unassuming.
But behind those walls was the headquarters of the CIA.
As the top CIA operations officer—or rather, the top spy—I was admired by my peers and respected by my seniors.
Not to mention, my beauty and elegance didn't go unnoticed.
There wasn't a case I couldn't crack. No mission I ever flopped.
I always outdid myself.
They offered me promotions to higher ranks.
But I turned them down.
What fun is there in being the big boss, sitting behind a desk, when you can be the best in the field—living the thrill, chasing the truth, and rewriting the rules?
I headed toward my office, opened the door, stepped inside, and closed it behind me. I quickly took a seat, laid my bag on the desk, and sank into my chair.
I began writing my report on the previous case—where I'd successfully taken down a major gun dealer.
Then, out of the blue, Chase barged in.
Chase was a colleague of mine—more into tech than fieldwork. He preferred hacking systems and decoding signals over chasing criminals or going undercover like I did. He had tousled brown hair, wore glasses, and had a surprisingly masculine build hidden beneath his baggy shirts and jeans.
"Hey, Miss Riley," he said casually. "The bosses want you ASAP. And yeah, you better turn in that paperwork fast or they'll get furious."
Oh, you might be wondering why I was called Miss Riley.
Well, no one here goes by their real name. Everyone operates under aliases and disguises. Like me—I wear glasses. And trust me, the way I look with them and without them? Totally different.
I groaned. "Uurgh, curse you, Chase. How many times do I have to tell you to knock before entering?"
He smirked. "Uuhm, yeah... that I ain't doing. No matter how much respect you get around here, I'm not knocking."
I shook my head. "Looks like old habits die hard."
I got up from my seat and headed to the staff room—the one reserved for high-level meetings. Only select agents were allowed up there.
Chase and I entered the elevator, pressed a hidden button, and completed a retina scan.
Moments later, we arrived on the Golden Floor.
We stepped into a spacious room filled with agents and high-ranking officials—many of whom could've been my peers had I accepted those promotions.
We took our seats. The briefing began.
Mr. Shakespeare stood at the board.
Of course, that's not his real name. It's his nickname—earned because of his unmatched acting skills and poetic flair. You could never tell when he was acting or being genuine.
He cleared his throat and said, "We still have a pain in the butt—the drug lord we've failed to catch for decades. He's making larger shipments now. We've sent our best agents, but all have failed."
Miss Penelope chimed in. "Not all our best agents. Why can't Agent Skywalker get the job done? Hasn't she busted countless criminals?"
Another agent added, "Yes, and she has a clean record. No failed missions."
Mr. Shakespeare turned to me. "Well, Agent Skywalker, what do you think?"
I knew this was a setup.
Miss Penelope—her agent name—wanted me out of the way. She was hungry for the throne, eager to be crowned the best agent.
But I couldn't afford to tarnish my name by rejecting a mission.
Never have I ever turned down a mission—no matter how risky.
So, pride surged through me. I said, "I'll do it. How hard can it be?"
Chase leaned forward. "It's too dangerous. Is it worth it? And she can't go alone."
Mr. Shakespeare nodded. "We've got intel on an operation tonight. You need to check it out—see what you can do."
I asked, "What do I need to know?"
That's when I saw it.
Miss Penelope's smug face.
That expression was priceless.
Some higher-ups brought in charts, maps, and files. After a few minutes, they left.
I was alone with Chase and another man—Agent Sapphire.
He began running me through everything.
That evening, I called Reese.
I told her I'd be busy—gone for a month or two. She'd be under guard while I was away.
She agreed, though not without whining about me never being home.
Then she hung up.
I got into my car and changed into my mission attire.
A black, floor-length dress with twin slits that allowed for movement and concealed weaponry. I strapped on my smartwatch and clipped my belt bag—inside were two Glock 19s, two pens (not ordinary ones), and a handful of other gadgets. I slid in my earpods.
Then came the final touches.
I styled my hair into two tight buns, leaving soft bangs to frame my face. I applied a bold red lipstick—not for anyone else, but for myself.
It's important to look good for yourself.
I tied a black veil across my face, covering my nose and mouth.
Then I grabbed my bow and arrows.
I drove fast, the city lights blurring past me, until I reached the warehouse.
I killed the engine, stepped out in heels, and approached the building.
Circling to the back, I spotted a dumpster beneath a high window.
I climbed up, slipped through the window, and landed in a cramped storage room.
I crept to the door.
When I stepped out, I saw them—ten men, armed and waiting.
It was like they already knew an agent was coming.
I thought to myself: I've never screwed up a mission. No way I'm screwing this one up.
Some of the men raised their guns.
They fired.
I dodged the bullets, sending them flying with swift, calculated moves.
I kicked hard, struck fast.
Even though they were many, they couldn't stop me.
I fought like hell.
Two men dropped from my Glock 19.
By the time I was done, the feds—FBI—arrived to arrest the rest.
I still wondered how they knew I was coming.
Then I brushed it off.
I returned to my car, changed clothes, and headed to the hotel.
I checked in, took a hot shower, and prepared for the next phase.
This was a big mission.
The mafia boss we'd been hunting for years was going to be there.
No backup this time.
They couldn't send other agents—the mafia had a way of sniffing out government operatives.
So I went all in.
No guns. Just gadgets.
I bathed, then slipped into a red backless dress with a dramatic slit.
I added red block heels to the look.
My hair? Loose waves.
My lipstick? The kind you wear to save a crumbling marriage—the kind that screams power.
Damn, I knew I looked gorgeous.
I put on earrings—spy tech, of course.
A ring on my finger—people would assume I was single.
But it was a tracking device.
I sprayed on my Louis Vuitton Contrebande—a floral, oriental scent that was addictive and intoxicating.
I looked at myself in the mirror and whispered, "I've got this."
Then I walked into the lounge bar.
I ordered a drink and some caviar.
Took a seat.
And began to observe the place.
AXEL'S POV
I sat in the corner of the lounge bar, wearing a white t-shirt—half unbuttoned—and black trousers with polished shoes.
Three women surrounded me. One traced her fingers across my chest, another whispered sweet nonsense in my ear, and the third leaned in for a kiss.
Then, suddenly, I caught a scent.
Sweet. Expensive. Captivating.
I paused, pulled away, and turned to my right.
There she was.
Alone. Elegant.
Her petite frame carried an aura of power. Auburn hair cascaded over her shoulders, catching the light. Her posture, her presence—everything about her demanded attention.
She looked better than any model I'd ever seen.
I felt something stir inside me.
It had been a long time since a woman had that effect on me.
I gave the girls around me a charming smile and dismissed them.
Then I leaned toward one of my men and whispered, "Call her over."
He approached her confidently and said, "Hi, miss. The man at the corner would like to speak with you."
She took a sip of her cocktail and replied coolly, "Oh, I'm humbled. But I'd rather pass. I'm not comfortable coming over. Why can't he come here?"
The man returned to me, silent.
My pride stung.
No woman had ever rejected me.
I clenched my jaw and said, "Gun down the place."
The message was passed.
Chaos erupted.
My men opened fire. Patrons screamed and scrambled for cover. The bartender, oddly unfazed, continued pouring drinks.
Then she stood.
Gracefully.
Agent Skywalker.
She reached into her handbag and pulled out a concealed weapon.
She walked straight toward me, gun raised.
My men aimed their weapons at her, ready to fire.
But I raised a hand. "Guns down, men."
I looked at her and said in a husky voice, "So, you're CIA. How ironic."
I leaned in slightly. "If I were you, I wouldn't press that trigger. There are bombs in this building. Eyes watching us. One wrong move, and this place goes up in flames. Too many casualties. Not worth it."
She hesitated, then lowered her weapon.
I stood and walked toward her.
I placed a hand on her waist. "But we could do something else. Something fun. Wouldn't you want that?"
She grabbed my throat—tight.
My men flinched, ready to act.
I waved them off. "Relax. She's not going to do anything. Show some respect."
I looked into her eyes. "I like you. You're feisty."
She replied coldly, "Just because you'll get away with it today doesn't mean I won't catch you."
She released my throat and coughed mockingly.
I chuckled. "See who's talking. Even the FBI and CIA couldn't back you up on this case. They're stretched thin. You can't pull this off alone. Let's see who catches who first."
She gave me a long, piercing look.
Then turned and walked out of the lounge.
I gave a subtle wave to my men—cancel the kill order.
I grabbed my jacket and left the scene.
I had arrived at my mansion went headed straight to my room i was planning on taking a quick shower all of a sudden my body was heating up there was something i longed for , something I craved for even I myself couldn't explain what I craved for but it was clear I wanted her, the girl I had met earlier at the bar ,I took off my clothes and went into my luxurious shower and washed my body and hair all I did was imagine her bathing with me seducing me in all ways possible making me loose my mind bit by bit ,the cold water running from the shower was supposed to make me feel better but it made him feel like she's closer to me I felt as though she was caressing me it was clear I yearned for her ,I finished taking my shower and wore a towel then I called Carlos my right hand man to make sure there everything was set in my playroom ,as soon I was done dressing up I headed to my playroom a blonde petite lady was there waiting she wore a sexy lingerie and she was braless I took off my clothes and threw then to the floor I couldn't hold it any longer my temperature was rising fast,i felt like a lion that had been starved for a long time and now it could finally have it's meal I stood and said "come suck it ,make me feel what I've never felt before ",she came crawling to me like a stray dog with a collar on her neck I held a cat o 'nine tails ,she held it and sucked it hard I flogged her with it and groaned but I never felt what I was supposed to feel and that was satisfaction the pleasure wasn't enough I said let's do it on the bed I carried her on my back placed her on the bed and took off her lingerie and crawled into the bed I gently placed my cock into her slowly she moaned softly ,I groaned but it wasn't enough I made the ride so fast from moaning she begun to scream I said "fuck me harder ",it wasn't enough I closed my eyes all I could see was her I immediately left the girl and dressed up I was clearly unsatisfied I quickly fled the scene my men gave her a check and covered her face gave her some drugs she fainted someone got her dressed and took her back .
Axel went back to he's room ,the next day Avery was still at the hotel hoping today she can lure him or something maybe she might be lucky she took a shower and wore a baggy shirt and a bum short and some house shoes she was practicing karate in her room then all of a sudden some men bardged in and attacked her she fought them but then a man ambushed her from behind and put a handkerchief on her nose and then she blacked out the cloth was drugged ,the men carried her and took her in a van .