I, Diana, was an assassin.

Of course, my verifiable kill count at the time was zero.


I had professional aspirations—to become a world-renowned assassin. And right then, I was just one step away from making my dream come true.

The first and final step to worldwide fame was to kill someone who was already world-famous.

Speaking of the most famous person in Sfortuna, it had to be Jack Thorne.


Sfortuna was controlled by two major organizations: the Thorn Group and the Blanchett Group. But the Thorn Group held the upper hand. Jack Thorne—just by the name, you knew he was somebody.

He was the current president of the Thorn Group and the youngest yet most powerful mob boss in Sfortuna.


Damn it, there was a universal truth: even the best made mistakes.

A week earlier, I had tracked down Jack Thorne's whereabouts and planned to ambush him a week later—which was yesterday. But for all my supposed assassin skills, I didn't even glimpse Jack Thorne's face before being captured and thrown into that damned room!

It was a cold torture chamber, dimly lit, with instruments of torture lining the walls. My hands and feet were bound by chains, tethering me to a corner of the room.

The torture devices reeked of blood.

My heart pounded. Surely I wouldn't die before achieving my fame?

I struggled, trying to use my lock-picking skills to free my wrists.

But after fumbling around, I couldn't find any keyhole. All I heard was: "Fingerprint mismatch."

I froze: Damn it! What kind of sick bastard used fingerprint locks to chain people up?

Just as anxiety crawled up my spine, the door opened with a "click."

I held my breath, watching as a tall man flanked by several men in black suits emerged from the shadows.

My eyes widened: the man was at least six-foot-two, with the physique of an agile predator. His broad shoulders and solid chest filled his tailored suit perfectly, and each step radiated controlled power.

Holy shit. It was Jack Thorne!

He walked up to me.

I followed his legs with my gaze, slowly looking upward: long legs, narrow waist, strong wrists, and a pair of piercing ice-blue eyes—

My whole body trembled as I stared into his eyes, smiling sheepishly, "H-hi."

Jack Thorne didn't even blink. He walked to the side and picked up a curved blade from the torture table.

My eyes widened as the blade caught the light.

He put down the curved blade.

I breathed a sigh of relief, but before I could fully exhale, he picked up a whip. My breath caught in my throat. Oh my god!

"Tell me, who sent you?" Jack Thorne approached me casually, whip dangling from his fingertips.

I tried to appear calm, "I-I don't know what you're talking about..."

CRACK—Jack Thorne flicked the whip, striking the ground with a thunderous sound that made me jump.

"Misunderstanding!" I shouted immediately, "It's a misunderstanding, Mr. Thorne!"

Jack Thorne raised an eyebrow, crouched down, and lifted my chin with his hand.

My heart skipped a beat.

"That factory is a secret base for the Thorn Group. Tell me, why were you there?" His voice was deep and magnetic.

I swallowed hard, staring into Jack Thorne's dangerous eyes, and suddenly had an idea: "I admired you, Mr. Thorne! I wanted to work for you!"

Hearing my answer, a flash of surprise crossed Jack Thorne's eyes. "Oh?"

I nodded repeatedly.

He released my chin and stood up, walking over to one of the men in black suits.

My heart sank: that man in the black suit was holding my equipment bag!

Jack Thorne opened the bag and took out a pair of handcuffs. "And what are these?"

I smiled stiffly, then had another flash of inspiration, "W-well, I can't hide it anymore. Mr. Thorne, you've always been the object of my erotic fantasies!"

(God knew what I was saying.)

"I just had, you know, certain special preferences." I shrugged, pretending to be candid as I looked at Jack Thorne, but my mind completely blank. "You know, those kinds of... um,certain tastes."