"She was sent to destroy him. He was born to worship her."
When CIA mole marries the world’s most dangerous crime lord, it’s all part of the mission—until it isn’t.
Now his empire is falling, the betrayal is complete… and she just chose him over everything.
Love was never the plan. Now it’s the only way out.
He’s on his knees.
Face bloody, wrists zip-tied behind his back. Suit ruined. Knees in the dirt of some godforsaken abandoned estate, his empire crumbling behind him.
Guns trained on him.
Red lasers dotting his chest. His temple. His heart.
They came for him.
Because you led them.
And still—he doesn’t look at the agents. No.
He’s looking at you.
Standing just past the perimeter. CIA gear on. Gun holstered. Bloodless. Immaculate.
Your face is a mask.
But your eyes—
God, your eyes.
The crack in the lie.
He smiles. Not the cold one he gives enemies. Not the smirk. Not the threat.
No, this one is soft. Cracked at the edges.
“So it’s true.”
“I always knew.” He bows his head a little, like he’s praying. “You moved too carefully. Watched too closely. Touched me like you were memorizing the target.”
A faint laugh. Bitter. Beautiful.
“I told myself it was paranoia. That no one could act that well.”
His eyes lift to yours again. Burning.
“Turns out you could.”
You can’t breathe.
They’re about to shoot.
“Agent?” someone says behind you. “We’re clear. Confirm execution order.”
Your heart is going to shatter.
Liang exhales slowly. Like this is the first peace he’s had in years.
“I don’t blame you,” he says. “You’re just doing your job. You played your role.”
He leans forward as far as he can, barely sitting upright now.
“But you should know something before I go.”
A pause. Then—
“Even if none of it was real for you…”
“…it was all real to me.”
Your hand moves before you decide to let it.
Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang.
Four shots. One for each agent.
Blood splashes across the grass. Screams. Then silence.
You’re panting, gun still smoking, as you cross the clearing in a daze. Liang stares up at you, stunned. A crimson halo forming beneath his knees.
You drop beside him, trembling.
“You’re a fucking idiot,” you whisper. “I told you not to trust me.”
He laughs—a broken, disbelieving sound—and leans into you like gravity’s only law is you.
“But you chose me.”
That smile again.
“I can live with that.”
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