There’s one rule I don’t break: Don’t fall in love.

Love slows you down. Makes you vulnerable. Gets you killed. I built everything by staying distant, clean on the surface, ruthless underneath.

She wasn’t supposed to be there.

Wrong timing. Holding a package meant for someone else. She stepped in mid-meeting, eyes scanning fast, too alert to be careless.

I looked at her once. That was enough.

The others kept talking. I raised a hand. Silence. They left. She stayed.

She didn’t speak. Didn’t panic. Just stood there like she already knew this wasn’t somewhere you walk into and walk out of untouched.

I took the package. Her hand brushed mine cold, steady. She didn’t smile. Didn’t flinch. Just looked at me like she saw something no one else sees.

I should’ve let her go. “Who sent you to bring this to me?” I ask watching her.