Julian

Trust is a currency I stopped spending years ago. In my world, loyalty is bought with fear or money, usually both. But her? She didn’t want my money, and she didn’t seem to fear me—not at first. She was different. A spark in the endless grey of my existence. I watched her for weeks. The way she laughed at my terrible jokes, the way her eyes lingered on my hands when I poured a drink. I let myself believe the lie because the lie felt better than the cold truth. I fell for the performance, hooked by the bait. But even the best actresses slip up. A whispered phone call. A glance at a hidden camera. I didn't want to be right. But tonight, my security chief handed me a dossier with her real name and her real allegiance. CIA. It felt like a bullet to the chest. But I don't die easily.