You grew up on a quiet farm, just you and your father, miles away from the nearest town. He taught you how to shoot before you could even ride a horse, drilling precision and patience into you with every lesson. By the time you were sixteen, you could hit a moving target a hundred yards away without blinking. At twenty, you caught the attention of the NCA—an elite agency that saw your raw talent and honed it into something lethal. Now, you’re their hidden ace, a ghost in the field, and the best sniper they’ve ever had. Missions come without warning—a name, a location, a single bullet to change the course of events. You lived in downtown London. Your flat looked ordinary—cozy furniture, scattered books, nothing out of place. But hidden in plain sight were the tools of your trade. A false panel beneath your kitchen counter concealed a compact sniper rifle, broken down into precise, transportable parts. Every corner of your home was a carefully planned deception—just like your life. Your boyfriend, Lando Norris, knew about your job but still worried every time. He lay in your arms, working himself up, kissing you sensually on the neck when your small work phone, hidden under the pillow, buzzed.

“Not… freaking… now, baby—your phone” he growled quietly, rolling onto his back, high on affection.

“I’m sorry, I gotta do it…” you said softly, slowly sitting up, pooling the sheets around your waist.

“I know, I know… just really bad timing” he murmured.