||RUTH||

James leaned in, a spark of excitement in his eyes, as he delivered the news with a confident smile. "Your journey begins tomorrow," he announced, his tone was filled with anticipation. "You'll be starting your work as Mr fynders assistant, starting promptly at 9:00 AM. We'll need you to arrive sharp and ready to embark on this adventure."

As James conveyed the instructions with an air of excitement, my eyes unexpectedly collided with Dylan's. His gaze, dark and penetrating, seemed to draw me in like a moth to a flame. At that moment, amidst the warmth of James' words, a silent exchange unfolded between us, speaking volumes in the language of unspoken desires and forbidden allure.

There was a haunting intensity in Dylan's stare, a magnetic pull that left me breathless, my heart pounding in rhythm with the unspoken tension between us. 

Dylan's broad shoulders commanded attention, his confident stride echoing with purpose and authority. His sleek, shiny black hair, meticulously divided into a perfect middle part, framed his chiselled features, accentuating his ruggedly handsome appearance. There was an aura of power that surrounded him, a magnetism that drew the gaze of all who crossed his path.

As he moved with effortless grace, it was evident that Dylan possessed a confidence that bordered on the edge of arrogance, as if he held the keys to a kingdom of secrets waiting to be unveiled. His piercing gaze, obscured by a veil of mystery, hinted at depths yet to be explored, leaving a trail of unanswered questions in his wake.

He exists his office and comes outside and all eyes are on him. But there's something deeper going on, something mysterious and kinda dangerous. It's like he's hiding these forbidden desires or secrets. I can't help but be intrigued by him.

Soon, he goes out of that place, into the lift, and out of the building. After James gave me instructions for tomorrow, I took another lift down and departed the building.

I started to walk back towards the bus stop while taking out my phone and dialling Marc's number. at first, he did not pick it up but after the second try, he picked it up.

'' So did you get it doll'' a raspy voice said from the other end.

'' Yeah I got it, I start tomorrow'' I said promptly.

'' what is the timing ?'' he asked.

''I start at 9 am sharp, Is there anything specific that you want to start tomorrow ?'' I asked him 

'' Not so quick you will know all the updates soon enough first start working normally and gain his trust '' he said and ended the call.

I slid my phone back into my jeans pocket and got inside the bus. I sat at the back of the bus and started to analyze my day. by which I mean Dylan's visuals. As much as I was scared at first and my blood boiled to see him I have to admit that he is a very fine-looking man.

I feel guilty now for being such a stuttering mess after hearing his name back at Costas i can do this and you know what maybe even get my revenge on him for making me feel miserable that day.

he thinks he can do anything he wants and no one will say anything to him.

So go ahead, Dylan, and keep dreaming your little dreams of dominance. Because soon enough, reality's gonna hit you like a ton of bricks. And when it does, you'll realize that messing with me was the biggest mistake of your life. Brace yourself, Dylan. Revenge is coming, and it's coming for you.

a small grin cuvred from the corner of my lips. thinking about it now that this is all a game of fate. seeing Dylan after all these years is insane meeting miles only a few months ago was a big shocker. me being an assassin and a slave in different cities but coming back here on Marc's orders was fate. His decision to pick me for this plan is also fate.

Be prepared to be ruined Dylan because Dustin Orgetsev won't breathe until he has you at least 50ft deep in the ground.

Soon after twenty minutes, the bus stopped and dropped me off at the end of my street. I walked towards my apartment building and went up to my apartment. I saw a small envelope waiting for me on the doormat.

I picked it up as I opened the door with my house keys. I looked inside it and there were 300 dollars stapled with a price of paper that had the initial DG in cursive there was also a small button touch phone in it. 

Okay, I am a little bit creeped out now but sweet just got 300 dollars nice.

As I placed the mysterious envelope on the table, a feeling of unease crept over me. With trembling hands, I reached for my phone, hoping for some semblance of normalcy. Yet, as it flickered to life, my heart skipped a beat. Instead of my familiar contacts, a strange array of names and numbers greeted me, as if my digital world had been upended in an instant.

At that moment, a realization dawned upon me like a bolt of lightning— I was leading a double life. Ruth Danan to some, and someone else entirely to others. The implications of this revelation washed over me, threatening to drown me in a sea of confusion.

But as quickly as the panic set in, a sense of resolve began to take hold. With a steady breath, I acknowledged the challenge before me. Managing two distinct identities would undoubtedly be a feat, but I was determined not to let it derail me. After all, I thrived in the structured chaos of my secretary life, and my limited social engagements provided the perfect cover for my duality.

Yet, even as I braced myself for the task ahead, a nagging uncertainty lingered. Should I reach out to Marcs, my confidant and ally in navigating life's unexpected twists and turns? Or should I forge ahead, trusting in my instincts to unravel this enigma?

As I weighed my options, I knew one thing for certain—whatever path I chose, I would need to tread carefully. For in this tangled web of secrets and identities, the truth remained elusive, and the consequences of discovery were unfathomable.

As the weight of my newfound reality settled upon me, I realized with a jolt that my body was crying out for sustenance. The unease swirling in my stomach and the dizzying sensation in my head served as a stark reminder that I had neglected the most basic of needs—I hadn't eaten since morning, subsisting solely on a cup of coffee.

With a weary sigh, I pushed myself off the couch, determined to remedy this oversight. The kitchen beckoned a beacon of warmth and nourishment amidst the tumult of my thoughts. As I moved with purpose, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee lingered in the air, a silent testament to the frantic pace of my morning.

But now, as hunger gnawed at my insides, I knew I couldn't afford to delay any longer. With practised efficiency, I rummaged through the pantry, gathering ingredients for a simple meal. A sandwich perhaps, or a hearty bowl of soup—anything to quell the protests of my protesting stomach.

I saw a box of quick mac and cheese and without wasting any time I started to cook.

Ah, the comforting embrace of mac and cheese—truly a timeless classic. With a sense of nostalgia tinged with hunger, I wasted no time in seizing the opportunity presented by the box of quick mac and cheese.

As I retrieved a pot from the cupboard, anticipation bubbled within me like the water soon to be boiling on the stove. There was something undeniably satisfying about the simplicity of this childhood favourite—a warm reminder of simpler times amidst the chaos of my dual existence.

With practised ease, I filled the pot with water and set it to boil, the gentle hum of the stove a soothing accompaniment to my thoughts. Meanwhile, I tore open the package of pasta, relishing in the familiar sound of crinkling plastic.

As the water reached a rolling boil, I added the pasta, watching as it danced and twirled in the bubbling cauldron below. Minutes ticked by, each one bringing me closer to the promise of cheesy perfection.

Finally, as the pasta reached its al dente peak, I drained it with precision, the steam rising in wisps like tendrils of anticipation. With a flourish, I returned the cooked pasta to the pot, ready to receive its gooey companion.

With deft hands, I poured the powdered cheese mix over the pasta, stirring with a fervour born of hunger and anticipation. And as the sauce thickened and clung to the pasta in a delicious embrace, I knew that my efforts had not been in vain.

With a satisfied smile, I spooned the piping hot mac and cheese into a bowl, the cheesy aroma enveloping me like a warm embrace. As I took my first bite, I couldn't help but marvel at the simple joys that could be found amidst the chaos of life—a reminder that sometimes, all it takes is a humble bowl of mac and cheese to soothe the soul.

A childhood favourite.