Alice walked past a small café—one that had once been a crucial part of her cover. Tonight, she had met with Phantom and a few of their associates. The operation was set to begin tomorrow, yet her mind was in complete disarray.
She had no idea where Aaron was. She had tried calling his number earlier, but it was always out of service. Alice was certain he did it on purpose. After all, he had told her not to look for him—just to wait.
But how could she simply wait?
She wasn’t sure what scared her more—Aaron finding out who she really was, or the possibility of losing him.
Alice took a deep breath. The Los Angeles night air felt colder than usual. Ever since yesterday, she hadn't been able to shake off this unease. This mission was different. Unlike the usual assignments, this one had left an unfamiliar weight pressing down on her chest. Fear wasn’t something Alice experienced often, yet this time, it clawed at her relentlessly.
She pulled her jacket tighter around herself as she walked down the familiar streets, despite the years that had passed. The road, the buildings, the flickering streetlights in the distance—it all reminded her of that night.
The night she first met Aaron.
The perfect deception. He had walked straight into her trap without a clue that the woman he trusted was someone sent to take him down.
Alice closed her eyes for a moment, replaying the events from three years ago.
Back then, her team had been so close to capturing Phoenix. Phantom had uncovered a secret deal between Greenice and a Mexican cartel, and they had moved in swiftly. The operation took place in a warehouse on the outskirts of the city, and for once, it seemed like Phoenix had no way out.
But, as always, Phoenix was never someone who could be taken down easily.
He fought. He took them on one by one, slipping past traps, evading capture. Even with bullet wounds and deep gashes, he still managed to escape.
Alice, stationed nearby under the guise of a barista at a small café, had been given a new order—follow Phoenix. Track him down.
And that was where it all started.
That night, rain poured mercilessly over the city. Alice had spotted Aaron in a dimly lit alley, barely conscious. His body slumped against a brick wall, his breaths ragged, blood dripping from a wound on his temple. His shoulder injury had drained almost all his strength.
She knew she had to maintain her cover. She had to act like a stranger who had simply stumbled upon a wounded man in the rain.
Without hesitation, she ran toward him, kneeling beside him as her fingers brushed against his blood-soaked jacket.
“Hey, are you okay?”
Aaron’s head tilted slightly, his sharp gaze struggling to focus on her. He opened his mouth, but no words came out. Alice could see the sheer willpower it took for him to remain conscious.
“I need to get you to a hospital. Stay with me,” she urged, feigning panic.
Aaron shook his head weakly. “No… no hospital,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.
“You’re hurt. You need—”
“Take me to your place,” he rasped. “I’ll pay you back… I promise.”
Alice hesitated for a split second. Then, against all logic, she made a choice.
She flagged down a taxi and helped Aaron inside, supporting his weight as she guided him into the vehicle.
That night, she had no idea that saving him would change everything.
And now, three years later, she stood in the same place, haunted by the memory of that night, by the choices she had made.
Alice exhaled, forcing herself to move forward. But then—
Wait.
A shadow loomed in the corner of the street. A tall figure leaned against a brick wall beneath the dim glow of a streetlamp.
Alice’s steps faltered.
Her heart pounded.
That silhouette… it was too familiar.
“Aaron…?” she whispered, almost afraid to say his name.
The figure didn’t move.
Alice bit her lip, trying to convince herself that this was just exhaustion playing tricks on her. Maybe she had been thinking about him too much. Maybe she missed him so much that her mind was creating illusions.
But as she stepped closer, the air around her grew heavier.
It was him.
Aaron stood there in his black suit, his hair slightly tousled, his sharp eyes locked onto her with an unreadable expression.
The world seemed to stop spinning.
For a brief moment, it was just the two of them.
....
Aaron pressed his wounded arm with his other hand, feeling the warmth of his own blood seeping through his fingers, staining his black suit. His body felt wrecked, every muscle screaming in pain, yet he forced himself to take step after step, pushing forward, desperate to get away from Greenice’s headquarters. The only place he could think of now was Reece’s house. It was safe enough.
But then, a violent cough tore through his chest, the metallic taste of blood filling his mouth. Aaron looked down, watching crimson splatter against his already bloodied hands. He winced. His lungs burned—probably from the relentless beating Victor and his men had inflicted upon him. His vision blurred, his consciousness wavering, but he fought to stay on his feet. He couldn’t collapse here.
With whatever strength he had left, he staggered to the nearest brick wall, leaning against it for balance. His breath came out ragged, chest rising and falling in uneven, painful intervals. The cold night air bit into his skin, and in the distance, he could hear the city of Los Angeles still alive, oblivious to his impending demise.
And then, his mind drifted—back to three years ago. A narrow alley, not so different from this one. Blood loss, fading consciousness, the feeling of being on the brink of death. But that night, someone had found him. Alice.
A faint smile ghosted Aaron’s lips despite the sharp sting of his split skin. He missed her—more than words could ever convey. Alice had always been the reason he kept going. The only person he had ever wanted to protect, no matter what.
And then, something caught his eye.
A silhouette, standing across the street.
His pulse quickened. His blurred vision tried to focus, but he feared it was nothing more than a cruel hallucination conjured by his exhausted mind.
But then—
The figure ran toward him.
“Aaron?!”
That voice.
It wasn’t an illusion.
It was Alice.
Aaron’s eyes widened, his breath hitching in his throat. How? How was she here?
Alice came to a sudden stop in front of him, her breathing heavy from running. Her eyes widened in sheer horror as they took in his battered state—the blood dripping from his lips, the hand clutching his wounded arm, the bruises covering his face.
Without thinking, she reached out, steadying him before he could fall. She felt his body tremble under her touch, his strength slipping away by the second.
“What happened to you?” her voice quivered, her eyes glistening.
Aaron was still staring at her, his expression unreadable. It was as if he couldn’t believe she was really here. “Alice… is it really you?” he murmured.
Alice’s tears fell. “It’s me, Aaron.”
His brows furrowed. “How did you find me?”
Alice bit her lip, her chest tightening painfully. This wasn’t the time for honesty.
“I told you not to look for me,” Aaron’s voice was weaker now, but there was still certainty in it.
Alice shook her head, tears spilling freely. “I couldn’t do that,” she choked out.
If only Aaron knew—she hadn’t come for him. She had come to capture him. But seeing him like this, bleeding, barely standing—it shattered her resolve.
Aaron let out a soft, breathless chuckle despite the pain. “You’re stubborn.”
Alice’s panic grew as she watched him sway dangerously. “We need to get you out of here. I’m taking you to a hospital.”
Aaron weakly shook his head. “No… I can’t go to a hospital.”
The words hit Alice like a painful déjà vu. Three years ago, he had said the exact same thing.
“Then I’ll take you to my place, okay?” she whispered, her voice softer now, filled with desperation.
Aaron studied her face. There was something in her gaze—something that made it impossible for him to say no. This woman… Why did she always find him in moments like these? Why did she always insist on saving him?
Finally, he gave a small nod.
Alice wasted no time. She slipped an arm around his waist, carefully supporting his weight. Aaron exhaled a shaky breath, managing a faint, lopsided smirk despite the agony he was in.
“Feels like déjà vu, doesn’t it?” he murmured.
Alice let out a choked sob. “Shut up, Aaron. Just hold on.”
“Don’t cry, sweetheart. I’ll be fine,” he mumbled.
That night, for the second time in her life, Alice saved the man who was supposed to be her enemy.