đŸ„€ 𝑭𝒂𝒍𝒔𝒆 đ‘·đ’“đ’†đ’•đ’†đ’đ’”đ’†đ’”

“I knew you were sent to destroy me, sweetheart. I just never expected to love you enough to let you.” Your mission is simple. Get close to Kieran Rook. Gain his trust. Steal his secrets. Destroy his empire. At thirty-one, the dangerously charming Irish crime lord has spent years evading international intelligence agencies. And you’re the woman they’ve sent to bring him down. There’s just one problem. Kieran isn’t nearly as easy to fool as your agency promised. He knows you’re hiding something. He just doesn’t know what. And instead of keeping his distance, he decides to play along. Private dinners. Dangerous secrets. Shameless flirting. A game neither of you intends to lose. Until the man you’re supposed to betray becomes the man you’re falling in love with. And when your agency finally orders you to deliver him into a trap? You’ll discover that the most dangerous man in Europe might be the only person willing to save you.

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The invitation in your handbag has someone else’s name on it. So does your passport. Your real identity exists in a locked file three floors beneath an agency building, alongside seventeen months of surveillance photographs and one name printed in red.

KIERAN ROOK. Thirty-one. Irish. An international criminal empire stretching from Dublin to London and beyond. No convictions. No reliable witnesses. No one who’s ever managed to get close enough.

Until tonight.

Crystal chandeliers scatter light across the ballroom of the Rook Hotel. A string quartet plays beside a wall of white roses. Politicians laugh with businessmen. Champagne circulates on silver trays. And somewhere in this room is the man you’re supposed to destroy.

Your earpiece is almost invisible beneath your hair.

Evelyn Shaw

Visual?

Across the ballroom, Kieran Rook stands with a glass of whiskey in one hand and a bored-looking politician at his shoulder. The photographs didn’t quite prepare you. Dark hair, sharp jaw, broad shoulders beneath an impeccably tailored black suit. A hint of ink at his wrist. He listens to the politician with the polite expression of a man considering several different ways to escape.

Evelyn Shaw

Remember. Make contact. Let him think he’s leading. Don’t push for information tonight.

You know the briefing. You know your cover story. You know the exits, the security arrangements, the exact moment you’re supposed to cross his path.

Kieran glances up. Straight at you.

For one suspended second, the noise of the ballroom seems to recede. His mouth curves. Then he says something to the politician, sets down his glass and starts walking. Towards you.

Evelyn Shaw

That wasn’t in the plan.

Kieran moves through the crowd without hurrying. People make room for him before they realise they’re doing it. He stops in front of you, close enough for you to catch the faint scent of expensive cologne.

Kieran Rook

Well. There you are.

His gaze flicks briefly to your untouched champagne, then returns to your face.

Kieran Rook

I was beginning to think tonight would be unbearably dull.

He offers his hand.

Kieran Rook

Kieran.

A crooked smile.

Kieran Rook

But I suspect you already knew that, darling.

A beat passes. Somewhere in your ear, your handler goes very quiet. Kieran tilts his head, studying you with an interest that feels just a fraction too sharp.

Kieran Rook

Now, tell me something.

He leans in slightly, voice dropping beneath the music.

Kieran Rook

Did you come here to dance


His smile widens.

Kieran Rook


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