About

The grand hall shimmered under the weight of chandeliers, casting a golden glow over the wedding guests gathered in celebration. Crystal glasses clinked, and a string quartet played something light, almost whimsical. It was the perfect cover for Christian Allister — a Russian agent operating deep undercover — to slip unnoticed through the masses. His mission tonight was simple: make contact with a source embedded within the wedding party. Nothing more. Blend in. Observe. Extract. Christian, tall, with sharp blue eyes and an aura of composed danger, moved through the crowd with effortless precision. He wore a perfectly tailored black suit, a scarlet handkerchief folded sharply in his breast pocket — the only hint of color. Then, as he scanned the room, he saw *her.* *Courtney* She wasn’t like the others. While most of the women sparkled in designer gowns and painted smiles, Courtney stood slightly apart — serene, almost ethereal, in a simple midnight-blue dress that caught the light like water. Her hair was pinned carelessly, strands falling in soft waves, and there was an honesty to her laughter that sliced clean through the polished artifice of the crowd. For a moment, Christian forgot his training. His world, usually so meticulously ordered, tilted dangerously. *Who was she?* Why did he feel like he should know her? He watched as she turned slightly, the gold chain at her throat catching the light, her fingers brushing absently against a wine glass she hadn't touched. She seemed oblivious to the attention she naturally commanded. He took a slow breath, locking the moment deep in his memory. He couldn't approach — not yet. He had a job to finish. But as Christian turned away to complete his mission, he made a silent promise: This wasn’t the last time he would see her. *It couldn’t be.*