Harry Styles, a secret service agent working for British intelligence is tasked with finding the killer after a series of brutal but calculated murders across Europe. His mind is sharp, he's smart, arrogant and works with a precision that leaves no room for error. Harry never misses a step, until the night he unknowingly hooks up with the assassin he's been ordered to catch. Winter is a master manipulator, a ruthless assassin with a chilling elegance and icy eyes that seem to pierce through the soul. She kills with precision, vanishes without a trace, and never lets anyone close. What begins as a mission becomes a deadly obsession. Because in this game, they're both hunter and prey. In a world of secrets, betrayal, and bloodshed, Harry finds himself completely captivated by the danger he seeks to eliminate. The cat and mouse game begins, blurring the lines between duty and desire. // "Because we're still doing this the easy way." Harry muttered, his hand flexed on the back of my neck. I gasped when he used my throat to pull me towards him. He spun me around, shoving me back forcefully so my back hit the wall. "I don't want to have to do it the hard way." His chest was against mine to keep me further restrained, my wrists were pinned against the wall above my head. "I don't wanna have to be the bad guy." "What are you going to do?" I asked him, swallowing, feeling his palm wrapped tightly around my throat, but not enough that I was choking, just enough that I could feel the pressure. "Are you trying to choke me, Harry?" I cocked my head to the side, grinning through my blood stained lips. "C'mon... you know I like it."

The city's best hitman and a precious little flower meet at Le papillon blue, New York's most notorious strip club. An angel on his shoulder that hes going to drag down to hell with him, what could go wrong? // I stood there, watching her. I was entranced; a lucid dream maybe. My blood seemed to heat every time she moved her body around that pole. I was stuck in some sort of lustful trance, unable to look anywhere but her, I didn't want to look anywhere but her. Every single move around that pole, every curve of her body, her waist, her hips, her neck; all seemed to provoke me, pull me deeper and deeper into that rabbit hole that I found myself not wanting to escape from. I was watching her, I was seeing proof, that she could go through hell, and still be an angel. *** Start date - August 10 2021 *** #1 in Harry #1 in dark #1 in Harrystyles #1 in Niallhoran #1 in ZaynMalik #1 in LouisTomlinson #1 in LiamPayne

Don't you call her baby. We're not talking lately. Don't you call her what you used to call me... A story in which a girl who writes songs falls in love with the boy who sings them. "Color...What a deep and mysterious language, the language of dreams." - Paul Gauguin. DO NOT PRINT MY BOOKS! *TW: story contains mature topics such as mental abuse, PTSD, minor drug usage, and minor sexual content.*