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She lived as a man for seven years, clawing her way to the top of the underworld. Step by step, she became the most trusted right-hand of a feared underworld heir—a secret kid who rose from the shadows. Her name alone struck fear; even street drifters kept their distance. What she never expected was this: the man rumored to only desire men was watching "him" closely... and getting far too attached. ===== Night settled over the woods outside Wruosas in early June, and a Rolls Royce waited along a forgotten stretch of road as the trees swayed with the breeze. Light from the cabin leaked through the windows and washed over a middle aged man whose face was tight with hu**er. His breathing came in rough, uneven pulls. Below him, a woman lay with her eyes shut and her mouth slightly open, and soft, su**estive sounds slipped from her lips. She whispered under her breath, and the tone carried a lazy sense of pleasure. Without warning, someone charged out of the darkness. Glass exploded as the window was smashed in a single strike, and the sudden crash jolted both bodies inside the car. The man did not even bother to look up as he snapped, "F**k off!" Kn**e in hand, the intruder leaned against the door with an easy posture, and his gaze cut sharp as lightning while he toyed with the bl**e. "Mr. Harding, having a good time? That ends tonight. You will not be enjoying anything once I am finished with you." Panic seized the woman, and she screamed as she slid down to the floor mat, curling in on herself. The man straightened at a measured pace, looked at the stranger, and forced a thin smile even as his heart lurched. "You think you can threaten me, you motherf**ker? You should be glued to that ba**ard, not sticking your nose into my business." The intruder's mouth curved with open contempt as he said, "Oh, please. You are just acting all tough." The voice belonged to Avery Brown, a woman disguised as a man, around twenty-five years old, dressed in fitted black leathe
