HIS INNOCENT WIFE IS A SPY by NG Grace

CHAPTER 1 The man who ordered my parents’ execution is about to become my husband. The thought sits heavy in my chest as I stare at my reflection, dressed in white silk that costs more than my parents’ entire house ever did. The room smells of roses and expensive perfume. Soft music hums somewhere beyond the walls. Everything is perfect. Too perfect. I press my fingers into the vanity, steadying my breath. My heartbeat is slow, controlled—trained. Because if I let myself feel everything right now, I’ll scream. And if I scream, I won’t survive. The bridal suite is enormous, cold despite the warmth of the lights. Marble floors reflect my pale face. Floor-to-ceiling mirrors surround me like witnesses. I feel exposed. Watched. Owned. This mansion doesn’t feel like a home. It feels like a cage. I lift my eyes to my reflection. The girl staring back looks gentle. Soft. Breakable. Long lashes. Calm mouth. A woman men would underestimate. Good. That’s the girl he chose. Behind me, the door creaks open. “You look beautiful,” Elena says from the doorway, her voice sweet enough to rot teeth. I don’t turn. She’s dressed in deep red, tight and elegant. Not white. She was never meant to be the bride. Not anymore. I catch her reflection in the mirror. Her eyes flick to my stomach. Cold. Assessing. She hates me. And she should. She steps closer, heels clicking sharply against the marble. “Enjoy this while it lasts,” she murmurs. “Men like Aiden don’t keep women like you.” Women like me. Disposable. Temporary. Useful. I give her a small smile. Timid. Polite. Innocent. “You’re right,” I say softly. “I’ll do my duty.” Her lips curl. She leaves. And I’m alone again—with the ghost of who I used to be. My fingers tremble as I reach for my necklace. A thin chain. Cheap. The only thing I kept from my old life. The moment I touch it— The smell of roses fades. FLASHBACK: SEVEN YEARS AGO People say the worst days of your life don’t come with warnings. They’re wrong. Mine came wrapped in normalcy. It came with the smell of stew bubbling on the stove, the sound of my mother humming off-key, and the text message glowing on my phone: Be safe. Come straight home. I never replied. I was seventeen. Tired. Carefree. Angry about exams and stupid teenage things. I slammed the door open, dropping my bag on the floor. “Mira!” my mother called, joy lifting her voice. “Go shower! I made your favorite.” She stood in the kitchen wearing her yellow wrapper, hair wrapped carelessly, eyes warm. The kind of warmth that makes you feel safe just by existing. I smiled. “You’re spoiling me.” She laughed. “Always.” I ran upstairs. That was the last normal moment of my life. The bathroom filled with steam as water ran down my back. I was humming—softly, stupidly—when the sound cut through everything. Crash. A scream. Then— BANG. The sound wasn’t like the movies. It was louder. Closer. Final. My body froze. The water kept running, but my heart slammed so violently I thought it might burst through my ribs. “Mira!” my mother screamed. “Stay upstairs!” Footsteps thundered. Male voices. Angry. Urgent. “They’re here,” someone barked. The bathroom door flew open. My mother rushed in, hands slick with blood, eyes wild with terror. She slammed the door shut and pressed her back against it, breathing hard. “Don’t scream,” she whispered, clamping her hand over my mouth. Her palm was shaking. Warm. “M-Mum—” “They want your father,” she said, tears spilling freely now. “He couldn’t pay back the loan.” The loan. The company. The men. She dragged me toward the small bathroom window, fingers slipping as panic stole her strength. “Run,” she begged. “Please. Don’t look back.” “I won’t leave you!” Her eyes broke. “I love you,” she whispered. “Forgive me.” And then— She pushed me. I crashed through bushes, pain exploding in my side. My breath knocked out of me as I hit the ground. I wanted to scream. I didn’t. I turned. Through the kitchen window, I saw everything. My parents were on their knees. My father’s hands were raised, blood on his mouth. My mother was crying, clutching his arm. Across from them stood a man in a black coat. Tall. Still. Untouched by emotion. Beautiful in the way predators are beautiful. “Aiden,” one of the gunmen asked. “Should we waste them?” I watched his face. No hesitation. No mercy. He nodded. Two shots. My world shattered. Their bodies hit the floor. And I didn’t move. I stayed hidden, teeth biting into my lip until I tasted blood—because if I made a sound, I would die too. That was the night my heart turned to stone. I lived. That was my punishment. I disappeared into shadows. Changed names. Learned silence. Learned patience. Learned how to survive without love. Until they found me. The rival syndicate. “You want revenge,” their leader said, his voice calm, calculating. “We want Aiden Kane destroyed.” “How?” I asked, hollow. He smiled. “We turn you into someone he’ll never suspect.” I didn’t cry. I didn’t hesitate. I nodded. That was the day Mira stopped being a victim. And became a weapon. A knock pulls me back to the present. “Mrs. Kane,” a voice says from behind the door. “It’s time.” I take one last look at the mirror. The innocent girl stares back. She doesn’t know she’s walking into enemy territory. She doesn’t know she’s already bleeding. But I do. I straighten my shoulders. Open the door. And step toward the man who killed my parents— Unaware that before this marriage ends… One of us will be destroyed.