LOGIN"Nica" She says and I can feel the dread settling in the bottom of my stomach. Please don't say it. "This is Min, CEO of the House of Cards bar and hotel" He steps forward and my first instinct was to step back, maybe grab the butter knife off the table and stab him. But I swallow down the urge. "Call me Lucas" He says, voice smooth and soft but the smirk playing on his lips gives away any innocence he's trying to portray. "A pleasure to meet you darling" Being an undercover spy shouldn't even be this hard. Obviously, the job has its moments. But when you're the daughter of a very loud, nosy and bossy woman that may as well be the sole definition of a competitive extrovert, things just naturally take a turn for the worse. *this story mentions topics like mental health illnesses, past abuse and traumatic experiences which some readers may find uncomfortable. please read with that in mind, thank you"
View MoreA numbing pain washes over me. In my years of being a spy and someone who relatively gets hurt a lot, this is both a good and a bad thing.Good because it numbs and washes away all the pain you should be feeling which makes things a lot easier. Bad because it pushes you to unconsciousness.It feels like we've been d
It happens between a second and two. I hear them fire the very moment they round up the corner and a second from there on everything moves in slo-mo. I pushed all my weight into the glass, squeezing my eyes shut when it breaks and I'm left open to face the consequences of my very,veryreckless decision.A sharp gasp gets punched out of me when I hit the ground surprisingly too soon.
This is a joke.That hosthasto be joking because there's no way that that woman on stage with a huge smile issomeone Iknow.I feel dread. Nothing but dread- maybe a tad bit of irritation because I'm facing my mother sooner than I wanted,
"Open the door!" The loud banging against the thin wooden door continues. I watch with wide eyes as the doors' hinges shake, threatening to give out any moment if the banging carries on."Maya who's at the door?" I asked with a small voice, shaky and scared because the last man that went here a month ago was far from friendly. My sister gives me a reassuring smile, patting my





