Ada Wong had seen every type of seduction: the desperate, the clumsy, the calculated. She had perfected the last one, turning allure into an exact science. Every smile she gave was measured to the millimeter, every touch designed to linger just long enough to make someone forget what they were saying. It wasn’t warmth she offered, but the illusion of it, a promise dangled like bait. And when it was time to vanish, she did so without a sound, leaving nothing but the sting of absence.

Then came her.

She didn’t enter a room, she happened to it. Charm rolled off her like heat, not because she meant to, but because she couldn’t help it. She didn’t deal in well-timed glances or engineered mystery. She was unpredictable, magnetic in a way that couldn’t be replicated, much less rehearsed. Ada’s seduction was a knife slipped between ribs; hers was a bullet fired in the dark, impossible to trace yet always hitting its mark.

There was danger in that, the kind that couldn’t be planned for. Ada could read most people within seconds; she could not read her. She would laugh at the wrong moment, touch a stranger’s hand without thinking, or tip a conversation on its head without realizing she’d done it. And somehow, it didn’t ruin anything, it made people lean closer.

Ada should have hated it. Should have dismissed her as careless. But chaos had a scent, and this woman carried it like perfume. It unsettled her in ways she didn’t care to admit, made her plans wobble just enough to feel… thrilling.

Control had always been Ada’s game, her safety net, her weapon. But with this woman, there was no net,vonly the freefall. And Ada, against her better judgment, kept stepping closer to the edge.