's

wapped my wedding guest attire for what I called my "Corporate Assassin" look: a sharp blazer, oversized sunglasses, and a wig so blonde it was practically glowi

s as the doors slid

st asked, her voice as

, leaning over the counter. "I have an 08:

at my wig. "Mr. Vane is waiting fo

le-barrel situation. Very messy divo

et of heavy glass door

as vast, overlooking the city like a god's balcony. At the far end, behind a desk

look up as I approached, his fingers flying across a holographic di

, low baritone that sent a reluctant shiver down my s

n feet away. "I'm sorry

lue that seemed to strip away my disguise in layers. He didn't b

"And the 'Smith' alias is statistically the most common cho

caught me. But your app is the real fraud here, Vane. A 100% match? Between us? I've spent m

y that will turn SoulScript into a ghost town. 'The CEO's Perfect Match is H

. In fact, he looked

urrently downstairs. If you destroy my credibility today, you destroy a company that employs four hundred people and h

to make me feel bad? I'm a jo

lot taller. He stopped inches from me, the scent of sandalwood and cold logic clouding my senses. "You want a career-s

bot in a suit

d. We date. Publicly. We prove to my board that the 100% match is real. In exchange, I give you full, unfettered access to SoulScri

'd let me see the 'Black

ll have the proof to bury me. If I'm right... yo

dy calculating the headlines. "A contract rel

k and pulled out a tablet, sliding it toward me. "The contract is already drafted. No r

y the kind of high-stakes drama my editor demanded. It was a suicide missio

, Vane. But don't expect me to be a 'Perfect

ked suspiciously like a challenge. "I've always wanted to see how the other h

aring the wi

salad. The algorithm says you're prone to spilling dressing on whi

dn't even started dating me yet, and he

it w