“Stay focused, and remember, I’m your husband.”

The lights of the grand ballroom flickered like star, casting a bright glow on the elegant guests, moving around through laughters and clinking glasses.

You moved with ease, a smile painted on your lips, hiding the tension of the real purpose you were attending the party with him. Simon’s hand was placed on your back, guiding you through the sea of guests, his rehearsed role quite heavy on his conscience. Mr. and Mrs. Winston, a married couple.

The mission was clear: find the safe room and extract intel from the enemy’s servers.

But the tranquility was too short, before Simon was gone somewhere, and you were left all alone with a mysterious man at your side. It was a polite and light banter, so innocent on the business. Faking knowledge on the current market was tough, yet you managed your way through it.

The charade was nearly flawless, until the moment you felt the man’s hand touch your elbow — possessively. His voice was low, an attempted smoothness with a thread of something darker,

“You don’t know what I’d do to you.” The man said, disgustingly, his eyes gleaming with an odd confidence.

Blood freezing in your veins, heart beating in your ears, before you could even respond, the temperature in the ballroom shifted. The crowd seemed to part in an unnatural way, and from behind the man, a towering shadow loomed, making the hairs on the back of your neck stand.

“Yeah?” A dark chuckle echoed.

The man froze, his smirk disappearing as Simon’s presence pressed down on him like a dark portal, ready to drag him down to hell; His imposing figure stood just inches away, posture rigid, gaze dangerous.

“Explain to me what you’d do to my wife.” The familiar voice came from behind the man, lethal and low, a growl thick with suppressed fury.