Enemies United

Chapter 1: The Masquerade Begins

Chapter One: Edith

The alarm blares insistently, dragging me from the clutches of sleep. I groan, reaching out to slap the snooze button on my ancient alarm clock. Rolling over, I reluctantly peel my eyes open, greeted by the soft morning light filtering through my curtains.

With a sigh, I throw off the covers and sit up, stretching my arms above my head. Another day, another masquerade. I swing my legs out of bed, my feet landing on the cool hardwood floor. Time to get ready for work.

My "internship" at Cameron Jones Associates (CJA) is what pays the bills—or at least what I tell my parents. In reality, it's where I execute missions and steal government secrets under the guise of legal work. The irony isn't lost on me; pretending to be a law intern while breaking the law. But in this twisted world, it's just another day at the office.

I shuffle to my closet, the scent of my parents' cooking drifting up from the kitchen below. My mother, Margie, always starts her day early, preparing breakfast for my father, Calum, and me before we head off to our respective destinations. They think I'm in law school, interning at CJA to gain experience. I can't bear to shatter their illusions.

Choosing my outfit for the day, I opt for a sleek, professional look—a black pencil skirt paired with a cream blouse and a tailored blazer. I tie my long brown hair into a neat updo, securing it with a few pins. As I glance in the mirror, I assess my appearance: mid-tone skin, hazel eyes, and a relatively good build. I may not look like your typical secret agent, but that's the point.

Downstairs, I find my parents sitting at the breakfast table, engrossed in the morning news. My father, Calum, is a tall man with graying hair, while my mother, Margie, has a warm smile and kind eyes. They're discussing the latest political developments in Croacari, the country we call home.

I grab a quick bite to eat—my mother's famous pancakes—before heading out. The news is buzzing with reports of unrest in the city, tensions escalating between rebel factions and the government. The threat of civil war looms large, but for now, life in Oaksrner seems relatively calm.

Stepping out into the crisp morning air, I inhale deeply, letting the familiar sights and sounds of my neighborhood wash over me. Oaksrner is a bustling city, alive with energy and activity. People hurry past me on the sidewalk, lost in their own worlds.

I fall into step with the crowd, blending in seamlessly as I make my way towards CJA. The building looms ahead, a nondescript office block nestled among the others. I push through the revolving doors, steeling myself for another day of deception.

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Chapter One: Zain

My eyes snap open at precisely 5:00 a.m., the sound of my alarm echoing through my sparsely furnished apartment. I don't need it; my body has been trained to wake up at this ungodly hour for years. Rising from the bed, I stretch, feeling the familiar ache in my muscles.

I make my way to the small home gym I've set up in the corner of the room. Exercise is my sanctuary, my way of preparing both body and mind for the day ahead. I push myself through a series of rigorous workouts, the burn in my muscles grounding me in the present.

After a quick shower, I dress in my usual attire—a crisp white shirt, black trousers, and a tailored suit jacket. My black hair is neatly styled, and my grayish-blue eyes glint with determination as I check myself in the mirror. I may not be a morning person, but I refuse to let anything less than perfection leave this apartment.

Springncanor, the city I call home, is still asleep as I step out onto the bustling streets. The early morning air is cool against my skin, a welcome contrast to the stifling heat of the day. I walk with purpose, the rhythm of my footsteps echoing in the empty streets.

Hemingway Industries looms ahead, a towering structure of glass and steel. It's a far cry from the modest apartment I call home, but it's where I belong. My father, Austin Callahan, is a senior partner here, and he's made sure I have a place in this world, whether I want it or not.

I push through the revolving doors, the familiar hum of activity greeting me as I step into the lobby. Hemingway Industries is a hive of activity, a well-oiled machine of innovation and ambition. And I am its reluctant cog.

With a deep breath, I steel myself for another day of corporate espionage and cutthroat competition. This is my world, my reality. And I wouldn't have it any other way.

Author: K.M Strunk