Deadly One

Bonus Chapter

A/n: Hi everyone! I know it's been a while, and I don't actually know what this is since I wrote this on a whim when I first published this story, but it was pretty choppy and inconsistent and I hadn't finished it yet, but I got bored in between A-levels at the beginning of the year, it IS a bit random but so am I, so yeah. Think of this as a 20K read special!

Now that it's finally done— ba-dum-tss!🥁🥁 — Hope you enjoy it!

(P.S. The image attached above was AI-generated based on my description to help give you guys a clearer idea of what Emiko's dress looks like 💃❤️)

~~~~~~

Mission File

Karma knocked softly on the door. A muffled voice answered, sharp and without ceremony;

"What?"

Taking that as permission, he stepped inside, pausing just long enough to take in the sight before him. The moment his eyes travelled to her, his breath caught in his throat the instant he saw her.

Emiko stood before the mirror, the dim light caressing the deep garnet velvet of her gown. The fabric shimmered darkly, like liquid wine pooling over her lean frame—rich, intoxicating, and impossible to look away from. The dress clung to her like a second skin, every curve sculpted with deliberate precision. Thin straps traced her pale shoulders, while a daring off-shoulder neckline revealed just enough collarbone to hint at vulnerability beneath her steel. The slit along her thigh teased the shadows, whispering promises of movement that was both danger and hypnotic, a reminder that this night was not just a dance, but a battlefield.

Karma froze, heart hammering against his ribs, as if the room had grown smaller and only she existed within it.

He tried to steady his voice. "Nearly done?"

But his words sounded weak, swallowed by the electric pull of her presence.

Again, his breath caught. He was rooted to the spot, every nerve screaming for him to say something, to tell her how breathtaking she was—but no words came. Instead, his eyes devoured every inch of her, tracing the way the fabric hugged the curve of her waist, the contrast between the soft glow of her skin beneath the faint, deep red shimmer of the dress. It wasn't just that she looked beautiful—it was the way she was beautiful. The way she moved with the effortless grace of someone who could command a room or disappear into the shadows at a moment's notice.

He swallowed hard, his heart pounding like a drumbeat in his chest. 'This isn't just Emiko', he thought to himself, though his expression did not change, 'this is everything I've ever wanted but never dared to admit' is what the little voice in the back of his mind whispered to him. His mind raced—imagining other men's eyes on her, dangerous and hungry, and his blood boiled with a sharp, unfamiliar jealousy. The quiet jealousy rose unbidden, imagining the eyes of other men lingering too long, hands daring to brush where his should be. He didn't want anyone to touch her. The thought of any other man that wasn't him laying their hand upon her made his chest tighten, the possessiveness he hadn't expected sinking deep into his bones.

He stepped forward, hands trembling ever so slightly as he reached for the clasp of her delicate silver necklace.

"I can do it myself," Emiko said without turning to look at him, her voice cool yet tinged with amusement.

But Karma didn't reply. He was too enthralled to break his gaze or pull away. She moved her hair aside, rolling her eyes in mock exasperation as she gave him the access he wanted. He was lost in the way her neck curved just beneath his fingers—warm and inviting, as if she belonged only to him in that moment. As his fingers brushed against the smooth curve of her neck, without thinking, his lips followed the path of his touch, pressing a feather-light kiss just below her ear.