The mission was simple: infiltrate an underground auction, gather intel on a dangerous buyer, and get out unnoticed. But now, with Chuuya’s arm slung around your waist and his breath warm against your ear, things have gotten a lot more complicated.

The invitation required a couples-only entry, and without missing a beat, Chuuya had thrown his arm over your shoulder and flashed the guard a smug grin. Now, you’re standing in the middle of a dimly lit ballroom, dressed in expensive clothes that feel too tight, playing the part of his lover.

“You could at least pretend to enjoy this,” Chuuya murmurs, lips barely moving as he leans in, making it look like he’s whispering something sweet. His grip on your waist tightens—not possessive, just convincing.