Aizen stood in her upscale living room, her face impassive as she worked to bury the disgust simmering beneath the surface. Across from her stood Jinyoung, the man she’d once called her husband. Now, he was just a figure in a tailored suit, unable to meet her gaze, shifting uncomfortably. She almost laughed at the irony—she could face enemies armed to the teeth, yet here was her “other half,” a CEO with a spine as soft as his excuses. “So, it’s true. You cheated on me,” Aizen said, her voice cold and unyielding. Jinyoung rubbed the back of his neck, glancing away. “Look, Aizen, it was... a mistake.” “A mistake?” She tilted her head, a faint, humorless smile forming. “Mistakes are forgetting to lock the door, not running off with Chanel Barbie.” He sighed, still avoiding her gaze. “You were… distant, always off on missions. I needed someone here.” She raised an eyebrow, almost amused. “So, in my absence, loyalty became optional? You could have taken up a hobby, tried yoga. But sure, blame it on my job saving lives. Real creative, Jinyoung.” His eyes dropped, guilt mingling with a hint of resentment, but she was done. She grabbed her coat, throwing it over her shoulder. “Aizen…” His voice cracked. “Can’t we fix this?” She paused at the door, her eyes narrowed. “You don’t fix what’s rotten from the start.” And with that, she was gone, leaving behind the remnants of her past and everything she’d once thought was real. --- Aizen walked through the sterile halls of the Intelligence Headquarters with unshakeable confidence, agents parting around her as if they could feel the steel in her gaze. Director Lee looked up as she entered. “Rough night?” “Nothing a dangerous mission won’t fix,” she replied, folding her arms. The director studied her for a moment before sliding a thin folder across his desk. “S-Rank. It’s going to be a challenge.” “Perfect.” She opened the file, skimming the details. “What are we dealing with?” “Mission Codename: David. It’s a syndicate in Moscow dealing in military-grade weaponry and classified tech. There’s a convoy interception, and you’ll handle retrieval and extraction.” “Just tell me when to leave.” “Twenty-four hours. You’re paired with Z701.” Aizen froze, her eyes flicking up. “The Z701?” Director Lee nodded. “Hyun Taeyang. His cover’s solid, and he knows Moscow’s underbelly well.” “Fine,” she said briskly, though she couldn’t deny a flicker of intrigue. Z701 was practically a legend—a half-Korean, half-Russian agent known for his brilliance and… unpredictability. --- The airport buzzed with early-morning energy as Aizen scanned the terminal, finally spotting him: Taeyang, leaned against a column, entirely at ease. His gaze lifted lazily when he caught her eye, and he smirked, making no move to approach. “Agent AX01, I presume?” he drawled, as though he’d just spotted an old friend. “Z701,” she replied, extending a hand. “Or should I call you Taeyang?” He took her hand with a mocking smile. “Taeyang’s fine. But ‘Your Majesty’ works, if you’re in the mood.” Aizen rolled her eyes, pulling her hand back. “Let’s get one thing straight. I don’t do babysitting. Don’t slow me down.” Taeyang just grinned, leaning back against the column. “I’d worry more about keeping up if I were you. But hey, you’ve got the whole ‘I’m-in-charge’ attitude nailed. It’s cute.” She shot him a sharp look. “This is an S-Rank mission, not a field trip.” “Pity. I was hoping for a souvenir.” He glanced down at her carry-on bag. “That all you brought? No survival gear? Snacks?” “I pack light. I’m here to work.” “Ah, a purist.” He shook his head in exaggerated disappointment. “I miss the thrill of a good mid-mission snack.” Aizen exhaled, annoyed. “Just don’t get in my way, Z701.” “Oh, you’ll know if I do.” He winked, slinging his duffel over his shoulder. “Let’s go, AX01. We’ve got a country to conquer.” --- Once on the plane, Taeyang leaned over, dangling an earbud in front of her. “Here. No awkward silence. What’s your mood?” Aizen eyed him skeptically. “Just… skip anything romantic.” “Wouldn’t dream of it.” He flicked through his playlist, landing on something heavy and aggressive. “How’s ‘Impending Doom’ for the vibe?” She gave him a look. “Getting real comfortable, aren’t we?” He grinned, leaning back in his seat. “Why pretend? You don’t scare me, Agent Aizen.” She narrowed her eyes but said nothing. As the music pulsed, Taeyang’s grin faded slightly, a rare glint of seriousness in his expression. “Ever been to Moscow?” “No, but I’m prepared,” she replied coolly. “Moscow’s not the kind of place you ‘prepare’ for.” His voice softened, eyes suddenly intense. “Stay close, and keep those nerves in check.” She met his gaze, noticing the shift from playful to commanding. For all his banter, there was an edge of experience. “I can handle it. But thanks for the heads-up.” “Careful,” he murmured, his grin returning. “You sound almost friendly.” --- The Moscow air was sharp and cold as they stepped off the plane, and Aizen felt the mission’s gravity settle over them. “Welcome to Russia,” Taeyang murmured with a smirk. “Time to play nice, Agent Aizen. They love outsiders here.” Navigating through the bustling streets, Taeyang took the lead, his every step radiating the practiced ease of someone who knew exactly how to move here. “Ready?” he asked, voice low and almost amused. Aizen nodded, her instincts on high alert. “Let’s get this done.” --- As they made their way through a dimly lit alley, a prickle of unease crept over Aizen. They were being watched. Taeyang’s voice broke the silence, low and taunting. “You nervous, Aizen? It’s cute.” She shot him a glare. “Focus, Z701.” “Always am.” He looked unfazed, almost entertained by the tension. “But it’s good you’re on edge. Wouldn’t want you getting rusty.” A group of men emerged from the shadows, blocking their path. The leader sneered, stepping forward. “Look who wandered into the wrong alley.” Taeyang flashed a grin. “Oh, you’re adorable. I was just thinking how dull this night was.” Aizen’s grip tightened on her weapon. “Stay on your side,” she warned. Taeyang chuckled, his expression shifting to something almost predatory. “Come on, Aizen. Let’s make it memorable.” The alley erupted in chaos. Aizen’s gun was up in an instant, taking down one of the thugs with a precise shot. Meanwhile, Taeyang moved like a shadow, slipping past one attacker only to reappear behind him, delivering a swift punch that sent the man sprawling. “Having fun?” he called over his shoulder, looking far too amused. “Not as much as you seem to be,” Aizen shot back, ducking a wild swing and retaliating with a kick that left her opponent gasping. “You don’t know the half of it,” he replied, taking down two more with brutal efficiency. His face lit up with an unsettling glee, as if he was born for this. Within moments, the alley was silent, the thugs groaning on the ground. Aizen dusted herself off, catching her breath. “This is supposed to be covert, not a street performance.” Taeyang shrugged, wearing an innocent expression. “Relax. They’ll forget my pretty face soon enough.” She glared at him, but he only grinned wider, stepping aside with a mock bow. “Ladies first?”