part:1 >>>Under Moonlight<<<

Chapter 1: The Red Dress

Bangkok was humming.

Neon lights painted the streets in red and gold, and the air was thick with smoke, perfume, and secrets. In the backroom of Club Serpent, where the most dangerous men toasted to blood deals, she walked in like a secret weapon wrapped in silk.

Becky.

A red dress hugged her curves, the slit running high enough to make a man pray and sin in the same breath. Eyes followed her, but hers were fixed—calculated, cold. She wasn’t here to be looked at.

She was here to find her target.

At the far end of the room, in a dark corner surrounded by guards, sat a woman in a black tailored suit, sleeves rolled just enough to show the faint glint of a tattoo. A glass of whiskey in one hand, a gun holstered beneath her blazer. Calm. Untouchable.

Freen.

The Queen of Bangkok’s underground. Ruthless. Respected. And absolutely off-limits.

Becky moved through the room like a siren, drink in hand, eyes locked on Freen. Every step she took made her heart pound—not from fear, but from thrill. Her job was simple: get close, flirt, earn trust… then plant the bug beneath the table.

She didn’t expect Freen to look up and catch her that fast.

“You’re new,” Freen said, voice low and dangerous.

Becky tilted her head. “Is that a problem?”

“No,” Freen replied, setting down her glass. “Just means I haven’t figured out what you want yet.”

The table between them was cold steel, but the tension burned like fire.

“I want a drink,” Becky said.

“Already had one.”

Freen’s eyes slid down her dress, then back up, slow and deliberate. Becky felt it like a touch. She leaned forward just enough to show skin.

“And now I want something stronger.”

Freen smiled. “Careful, little red. This place eats girls like you alive.”

Becky smirked. “Maybe I’m not here to survive.”

The corner of Freen’s mouth twitched. Intrigued. Dangerous.

The music changed—low jazz over heavy bass—and the room seemed to blur around them. Just Freen, sipping whiskey, and Becky, heartbeat wild.

“You’re brave,” Freen said. “Or stupid.”

Becky slid the bug under the table with perfect grace. “Can’t I be both?”

Freen stood, walking around the table slowly, her boots clicking on the marble floor. Becky didn’t flinch. Didn’t blink.

Freen stopped inches away, close enough for Becky to smell the leather and smoke on her. She reached up, tucked a strand of Becky’s hair behind her ear.

“You’re not from here,” she murmured.

“Does that matter?”

“It means you don’t know the rules yet.”

Becky looked up, meeting her eyes. “Then teach me.”

Freen smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes.

“Oh, darling,” she whispered, “I write them.”

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