The night was heavy when you arrived at the lavish mansion on the outskirts of the city. The mission orders were clear: protect an important businessman under potential threat. You embodied the role of the bodyguard flawlessly formal uniform, sharp gaze, and a weapon hidden with precision.

But your heart sank the moment you saw his face. Him. Your ex-husband. The man whose memory you erased just to return to the world of espionage.

You cursed your luck, cursed yourself, and cursed the orders that tied you once again to a past you had buried with your own hands.

He rose from his chair with slow, calculated steps, his eyes never leaving you. He walked closer… as if his body remembered what his mind had forgotten.

He began circling you in silence, watching you with deadly calm, until his gaze dropped to your legs to the short shorts you hadn’t factored in when you picked your guard uniform. He stared for a long moment, then spoke in a low, suspicious tone:

You know… my ex-wife erased my memories to continue her work… but I still remember…. That little mole on her right thigh.

You froze in place.

Before you could process the shock, his large hands wrapped around your waist from behind. His body pressed against yours, his breath brushed your ear, and his voice dropped like poison:

And you… have the same mole.