Sanemi stood frozen in shock, his body stiff. He had been caught, hand hovering over a forbidden drawer.
"I… I was just looking at the books," he stammered out, the lie flimsy and pathetic even to his own ears.
Mia stepped closer, her soft silk robe flowing around her, effortlessly closing the distance between them. Her eyes, still holding that unsettling, unreadable quality, dropped to the photograph clutched in his hand. Her lips curved into a slow, teasing smile, and her voice dipped into something dangerously close to a whisper.
"Oh? So you want to know about me?" she murmured, tilting her head slightly as her gaze locked onto his. "That's why you're stalking my life? You could have just asked."
Before he could fumble a retreat, her hand lifted and touched his shoulder—soft, deliberate. Goosebumps erupted across his skin, a traitorous shiver that had nothing to do with fear. Her faint, floral perfume brushed against him as she gently took the photograph from his trembling hand.
"That's not a very good way to welcome a neighbor," she murmured, her smile lingering as her gaze traced the panic on his face.
"I— I was only trying to—" Sanemi stammered, his words tangled on his tongue. His chest tightened painfully.
What is happening to me? his thoughts screamed. I've never been in a situation like this. I'm already in danger. Maybe this is the trap. Maybe I led myself straight into it. Or… maybe I'm not in danger at all. Her eyes… seductive, warm… What does she really want? Either way, I'm screwed.
Mia's voice cut through his silent storm. She lifted the photo to look at it herself.
"You see this one? The one you were holding?" Her tone softened, taking on a nostalgic hue. "I was sixteen back home in Russia. I look stupid there, right? Ha-ha."
Sanemi swallowed hard, his throat dry. "But… you were beautiful even then," he managed, the words surprising even himself.
Her eyes sparkled, a sudden flash of delight. "Really? Do you think I was cute? Or are you just lying to me to save yourself?"
"I'm not lying," he said firmly, finding an unexpected steadiness in his voice. "You're truly beautiful."
She chuckled, a rich, satisfied sound, and straightened up. "Okay then… breakfast is ready. On the dining table."
Relief washed over him, but only faintly, like a thin layer of ice. The moment had felt endless, suffocating, and yet strangely magnetic. His mind buzzed with questions as he took his seat at the dining table. A perfectly neat sandwich with eggs and a tall glass of juice waited for him, arranged with surprising care.
"Enjoy," Mia said, smiling sweetly before heading toward her bedroom.
Sanemi stared at the food, his paranoia screaming in his ear. Russia… she said Russia. Ivanovna… Wait. Isn't that a Russian name? So it's her. It has to be her.But she doesn't seem dangerous. Why would I be given a task to kill someone like her? She seems… kind.
His stomach growled violently, cutting through his doubts. Should I eat this? What if it's poisoned? His head ached with confusion. Forget it. I'll eat. I don't even know what to do anymore.
He took a cautious bite. Then another. The food was delicious—soft bread, warm eggs, everything seasoned perfectly. She has blessed hands… he thought, chewing slowly. For a moment, the taste made him forget the weight of the mission. But then the paranoia crept back. What if she went to get a weapon? What if she plans to finish me right now?
Part of him wanted to run—just get up and disappear before she returned. But something deeper, an animal curiosity laced with fear, held him down. He finished the meal, feeling strangely lighter, the knot in his chest loosening.
"Sanemi…" Her smooth voice floated from the bedroom.
His blood ran cold. He froze, staring at the table. Is this how I end up?
Slowly, he turned his head toward her voice.
And when he saw her, his breath hitched.
Mia stood in the doorway, no longer in her silk robe, but now wearing a fitted mini dress, short and dangerously revealing. The fabric hugged her curves, looking tailored only for her, her bare legs catching the soft glow from the lamp. She twirled slightly, pretending it was casual, but her eyes never left his face.
"Well?" she asked with a playful smile, tilting her head. "Do I look nice?"
Sanemi's throat went dry. He couldn't lie—not when the mesmerizing truth was standing right in front of him.
"You… you look perfect," he admitted, his voice barely a low rasp.
Her smile widened, satisfied. "Good. Then come," she said, waving him toward the cream sofa. "Let's watch a movie together. I want us to talk."
He didn't have much choice. His legs moved on their own, carrying him back to the couch where she sat beside him. Too close. Her rich perfume filled the air, sweet and distracting. She leaned back in a relaxed, almost careless posture, but everything about the way her body angled toward him felt deliberate—a trap wrapped in silk.
She glanced at him sideways. "So… yesterday. Why didn't you stop by when I greeted you?"
Sanemi shifted uneasily, eyes fixed on the TV. "I was… occupied. Busy with some things."
Her expression softened, almost playful. "Hmm. I see. Well… I'm okay with you now."
He turned to her, uncertain. "Okay with me?"
"Yes." She smiled faintly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Then her voice dropped into something softer. "But… I have a request. Only if you'd accept."
Sanemi hesitated, his instincts screaming. "I'm ready to listen."
Her eyes met his, deep and unguarded. "Will you be my friend? I'm… lonely. I want someone I can share stories with. Someone to make life less quiet."
He blinked, completely caught off guard. A friend? His lips parted slowly. "I… I'll think about it first."
She chuckled softly, as if she'd already expected that answer. Then, without warning, she grabbed the remote and changed the channel. The screen lit up with a movie—one filled with adult scenes, bodies tangling on the screen, moans drifting faintly into the room.
Sanemi stiffened. Heat rose to his face as he tried to focus elsewhere, anywhere, but the situation only grew more unbearable with Mia lounging so close, her dress riding slightly higher as she shifted. He forced himself to gather courage. "Mia… what about your job? What do you do?"
She looked at him with a sly smile, her eyes glittering in the TV light. "Me? I'm a CEO. I run my own company."
Sanemi's jaw slackened. "A CEO…? That explains… this," he muttered, glancing around the luxurious apartment. No wonder she lives like this…
Just then, his phone buzzed. He glanced down. A message. From Rina. His brows furrowed. Why now? Of all times… why now?
As his attention lingered on the glowing screen, he nearly jumped when he felt something—soft fingers brushing against his thigh. His heart slammed hard in his chest.
"Mia…" His voice cracked.
She leaned closer, her breath warm against his ear. "Don't be so tense, Sanemi," she whispered, her hand resting lightly yet firmly on him. "We're just… friends, aren't we?"