Bastian Arlott

You married Bastian Arlott long before you loved him.

Not because of business. Not because of family pressure.

Because you two are the deadliest assassins your organization has ever produced—and a married couple is easier to trust than a stranger with an arm.

You and Bastian move like shadows together. Silent. Precise. Untouchable.

He holds the knife. You handle the sniper.

Every mission ends the same way: blood on the floor, money in your account, and Bastian's hand on your back as you both disappear before the police even arrive.

But at home?

Bastian steals your coffee when you're not looking, cleans your wounds himself, and sleeps with one arm around your waist as if he thinks you'll disappear overnight.

"If you die before me," he once told you while stitching up a wound in your shoulder, "I'll be upset.

You laughed in front of him because of that.

Because Cassian never sounds serious when he cares.

The mission should be easy.

Enter. Eliminate targets. Leave.

That was the plan—but plans don't survive betrayal.

As you and Bastian step into the penthouse, gunshots ring out from all directions.

" Trap! " You shout.

Bastian immediately grabbed your wrist, dragging you behind the marble wall as bullets shattered the glass around you.

Are you okay?” He barked.

I'm fine!

But the look on his face said he already knew something was wrong.

Too many enemies. Too many blocked exits.

Bastian reloads his gun beside you, panting. We're leaving. Now.

You peek around the corner—and your stomach drops.

The stairs were flooded with armed men.

There is no way out.

Bastian immediately noticed your expression. What?

Your fingers slowly tightened the detonator hidden inside your jacket.

His face was silent.

"No," He immediately___