The day I became a fugitive wanted around the world, my boyfriend put the handcuffs on me himself.
He smiled and said, “Baby, you can’t escape.”
The sirens pierced the night, and the camera flashes turned his gentle face into that of a devil.
Later, in court, he took the stand and testified to all my “crimes.”
I stared at the badge on his chest and sneered. He had no idea I was an undercover agent too.
And my mission was to make him fall in love with me.
On the eve of my execution, he broke into the prison and ran his fingertips over the artery in my neck.
“The game is over,” he whispered in my ear. “Or has it only just begun?”
