Dahlia .
Back in my room, I kicked off my shoes and unbuttoned my dress, letting out a sigh so deep, it probably reached the underworld. That tea party—if you could even call a gathering of Botox warriors and gossip ninjas a "tea party"—wasn’t my scene. I needed a break from all the fake smiles and passive-aggressive compliments.
In search of solace, I wandered to the library and grabbed the first book that caught my eye. As I pulled it from the shelf, a manga decided it wanted to live dangerously and swan-dived onto the floor.
Curiosity piqued, I picked it up. One page in, and I was hooked. An assassin and a hitman from rival companies falling in love? Sold. I dove headfirst into the story, oblivious to time and reality, until the growing darkness outside and a shadow in the doorwa
