When the pack solemnly gave me the order, I took it.

Stammer became the assassin of The Snicker Pack.

My target was Ronan.

The file said he was refined, cold, and composed.

But as I stood before this breathtakingly handsome yet clearly insane man, I couldn't help but question the accuracy of my partner's intel.

Help!

Can someone explain to him that I'm here to kill him, not confess my feelings?

He leaned in slightly, his voice low and deliberate as he whispered in my ear, "Did you just say your name is Stammer? When did you start liking me?"

No!

I tried again for the two hundredth time to explain: "I... I'm not... I'm not interested..."

Ronan's eyes lowered, his tone both surprised and touched, "Not interested? Could it be... love?"

"I-I..."

I nearly snarled, ready to snap back, "Love you, my ass!"

But before I could finish the words, Ronan interrupted with a smile that made my stomach twist:

"I LOVE YOU FOREVER?"

Ha.

I laughed.

It's true, when you're at a loss for words, sometimes you just laugh.

As I laughed, a single thought flashed in my mind.

"On a dark, windy night, the perfect time to kill."

I reached for my weapon-a glittering, oversized spoon I'd been hiding in my sleeve.

It was definitely going to be lethal.

Just as I was about to brandish it like the assassin I was,

"Ronan, who is this filthy woman? Why are you with her?"

I froze.

The unwelcome guest had arrived.

What a mess, what a glorious mess this was turning out to be.

Now.

Please, someone, mute the world. I need to process this betrayal.

My pack Alpha had given me three months to assassinate Ronan.

I thought that was more than enough time.

But no.

Two entire months just spent tailing him, waiting for the perfect moment, and now, finally, tonight, I had him alone.

It was supposed to be perfect.

God, it's all ruined.

I thought about taking them both out-killing them together.

But before I could make up my mind, Ronan suddenly grabbed my hand.

His eyes, dark with authority, turned cold as he spoke to the woman.

"Alice, stop following me."

Did you hear that?!

He told her to go!

"Leave! I beg you!"

Alice's eyes widened, her hands trembling as she pointed at me.

"Why? Why does she get to be with you?"

I rolled my eyes.

I was just an average assassin, nothing special.

But then, Ronan suddenly released my hand. He swiftly pulled out his phone and turned on the flashlight, aiming it straight at my face.

What the hell?

Had I been exposed?

Was this some kind of trap?

Instinctively, my professional assassin skills kicked in-I raised my hands in surrender, about to crouch down, when he calmly said to Alice, "Did you see that? You're ugly, she's beautiful."

Wait, what?

Ronan was a looks guy?

What a twist.

I awkwardly pretended to scratch my head, trying to act cool while my heart was doing backflips.

Damn it.

Mental note: Ronan, you're a dead man.

This mission wasn't going to happen tonight. I'd have to wait for another chance.

Just when I was wallowing in defeat, he suddenly draped his arm over my shoulders, saying with far too much familiarity, "Stammer, I accept your pursuit."

Who's pursuing you?!

Are you the ancient Greek god of self-confidence or something?

But.

Seeing Alice still clinging to him like a bad odor, I realized-this was the perfect opportunity.

"Well. if that's the case, can I. can I come over tonight?"

The next morning, I woke up in Ronan's five-hundred-square-foot bed, his scent still lingering in the air, and I immediately started planning my next move.

Poison.

Lunch was going to be my moment. I added a special ingredient to every dish.

But I didn't expect this-

"Why aren't you eating?"

I wiped the cold sweat from my forehead.

Since I put the poison in, he hadn't touched his food, his smile never wavering.

Was I exposed?

Ronan, casually brushing a lock of hair from my face, cupped my cheek and said softly, "You eat first. I'll take whatever's left."

Wait, what?

What kind of weird preference was this?

I tried to steer the situation: "W-We can eat together..."

He awkwardly nodded.

Just when I thought things were safe, he suddenly called my name, "Stammer."

I looked up, confused: "Huh?"

And before I could say another word, a spoonful of giant wolfberry stew was shoved into my mouth.

I had no choice but to swallow.

Wait. what the hell?

Did I just let him feed me?!

He chuckled softly, his voice laced with amusement, "If you wanted me to feed you, you could've just asked."

When I opened my eyes again, I found myself lying in a hospital bed.

Ronan, looking a little worse for wear, was slouched by my side, his head resting on his arm.

I was just about to give him a big slap across the face when-he woke up.

His narrowed eyes immediately locked onto my raised hand.

"Ha..."

I quickly switched gears, awkwardly scratching his scalp instead.

"Uh, I... I was just... just worried your head was itchy. Ha ha ha..."

The sentence stretched for two full minutes.

I was burning with embarrassment, my face as red as a ripe tomato.

Ronan, still half-dazed, slowly reached up with one strong hand, brushing my hair back and gently cupping my face. His touch was unexpectedly tender, his fingers tracing the line of my jaw as he leaned closer. His voice, thick with sleep and something else, rumbled low, sending a shiver down my spine.

"Are you still feeling unwell?" He murmured, his gaze lingering on my flushed face. "Your cheeks are all red..."

I froze.

Is he... seducing me?

No, no. He couldn't be.

But still.

I quickly buried my face under the blankets.

"No... I'm not uncomfortable."

Ronan, clearly not convinced, lifted the blankets with his fingers and leaned down closer to me.

Our faces were so close I could count the feathers of his dark lashes.

I swallowed a nervous gulp.

Before I could keep ogling him like a schoolgirl, Ronan's hand brushed the side of my neck.

His dark eyes were like black holes, his voice cool but sharp.

"So... Stammer, why were you poisoned?"

My heart skipped a beat. Cold sweat broke out on my skin.

Shit.

As I stammered in panic, Ronan's voice cut through the tension.

" Didn't you wash the Wolfberries?"

What?

"Wolfberries?"

Wait, my poison?

While Ronan was distracted by getting me some water, I quickly grabbed my drug powder.

The expiration date on the packet was glaringly marked: May 2024.

Oops. It's expired.

I'd been discharged a whole week ago.

I felt a pang of guilt.

I was a terrible woman.

Even though Ronan had taken care of me in the most comfortable way imaginable, I still had to kill him.

It was either him... or me.

No, no-it was either he dies... or I do.

Shaking the bad thoughts out of my head, I decided to change tactics this time.

A poisoned needle.

After checking the expiry date-again-I set my plan into motion.

"Stammer, how about some red-braised pork today?"

Ronan was in the kitchen, apron tied around his waist, cooking.

Since the poisoning incident, he refused to let anyone else handle the food in the house.

Everything was under his direct control.

Watching his broad back, I wiped the sweat from my forehead.

The poisoned needle was pinched tightly between my fingers.

I had already planned the perfect moment. One swift strike, and he'd be out cold before he even felt it.

I silently approached from behind, ready to inject him with precision.

But then-

What the hell?

The needle got caught on his Hermès belt.

Why the hell does he have the hell belt?

Before I could adjust myself, Ronan took a few steps back.

Instinctively, I raised my hands to block him.

"Ha-ha..."

With the needle now in my hand, I clenched my jaw, trying to hold back my irritation.

I moved quickly, yanking at his shirt to see what the hell had just happened.

"Is something wrong, Stammer?"

Ronan's voice was soft now, as he gently tucked my sweaty hair behind my ear.

He leaned down and kissed my forehead.

And I.

I'm paralyzed.

I could barely move, let alone speak. I wanted to ask him to hand me the antidote in my pocket.

But I'd forgotten one crucial thing-when I'm nervous, I stutter.

"Ha... ha..."

Ronan blinked at me, his gaze softening as he smiled.

"Happy birthday?"

"... Thank you, Stammer. You're the only one who remembers my birthday."