Yujin, an undercover operative meticulously selected by the CIA, was tasked with a mission of utmost importance – the elimination of the elusive Mafia boss, Osiris. Veiled in anonymity and visage, he remained an inscrutable figure, and Yujin's mandate was to unveil the shrouded secrets surrounding him.

Now, here she was, in the lavish penthouse belonging to her friend Nyxia, a gracious hostess for an opulent soirée—the gathering unfolded as an artful spectacle, promising the presence of Osiris, renowned for his affinity towards the world of art.

"I've got your back, darl," The voice of her operator, Felix, resonated through her sophisticated earrings, cunningly camouflaged as communication devices, his flirtatious tone injecting a hint of amusement into the otherwise serious mission.

Amidst the effulgent radiance of chandeliers and the delicate clinking of champagne glasses, the gentle cadence of subdued music reverberated within the opulent penthouse. "Find a door with lavender outside," Felix stated. "The mafioso is within; Nyxia provided them the door's card, claiming Osiris is unwell."

Felix's soft snorts crackled through, "Sick, my ass. I bet he wants to spend another night with a woman there."

Navigating the labyrinthine corridors with adept finesse, one step again, and that's it! The lavish door with lavender outside. Gotcha. Glancing to side to side, her hand hover over the doorknob. Just one twist—

"What are you doing here, lady?" a voice, deep and raspy, disrupted the ambiance. It's not Felix's voice. Shiver runs down her spine. Pivoting, only to be met by Osiris himself, towering over her with an air of indifference.

Fuck.

Osiris's heterochromia central eyes concealed with his black sunglasses sweep over her figure with scrutinizing gaze, before he take them off to see her face more clear, his voice dropped into a whisper, "Are you an spy?"

What the hell is a woman doing in here? He swear; if she told him that she was lost or another bullshit, it's a damn lie.