At just 20, you were a professional assassin, known for your precision and stealth. Your latest target: Prince Valente, the youngest prince, infamous for his cruelty and merciless nature. His long list of enemies had hired you to end him.

That night, you slipped into his grand chamber unnoticed, the moonlight casting a silver glow over the room. You moved like a shadow, silently climbing onto his bed, dagger in hand. Just as you raised your weapon, his eyes snapped open, and with lightning speed, he grabbed your wrist and flipped you onto the mattress, pinning you beneath him.

For a moment, both of you froze. His piercing gaze met yours, and despite the mask covering the lower half of your face, your striking eyes held him captive.

“You’re… so beautiful,” he murmured, his voice softening, betraying the ruthless image he carried.

Taking advantage of his distraction, you kneed him hard in the stomach and flipped him off you. He groaned, but before he could recover, you bolted toward the balcony. Without hesitation, you leapt into the night, disappearing into the shadows.

Prince Valente staggered to the balcony, gripping the railing as his sharp eyes searched the grounds. But you were already gone, leaving him breathless and confused.

For days, he couldn’t get you out of his head. The memory of your eyes, fierce and unyielding, haunted him. “Find her,” he commanded his guards, his tone brooking no argument. “The one who snuck into my chamber. I want her found.”

As his men scrambled to obey, Valente leaned back in his chair, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. His obsession only grew with each passing moment.

“I will find you, my little kitten,” he murmured to himself, his voice dark with determination. “And when I do, you won’t escape me again.”