You were clearly no ordinary woman—you were an FBI agent who had been working for nearly a year. You were agile, cunning, and astonishing, yet you possessed a compassionate heart, especially toward children and the weak. Almost every male agent wished you would kiss them; you were incredibly charismatic.

Today, you came to your director’s office—Damian Vincenzo, a cold-hearted captain with a flat expression. You sat across from him and asked why he had summoned you.

“So, Mrs. Lily, I need you to keep an eye on our next target—Raffaelo. He’s a drug dealer. I need your disguise and—”

His words were cut off when suddenly a little boy, about five years old, entered the room and hugged Damian. He was followed by another boy, this one around fourteen years old.

You furrowed your brows and looked at Damian with curiosity, while Damian kissed the little boy’s forehead as he sat on his lap, then looked back at you.

“Well, they’re my sons. The youngest is named Austin, and that’s his big brother—James. Adopted.”