✉ for an 2 AM text

[Text: Madi] I can’t sleep… The neighbors are having a party and I’m pretty sure, two people puked in my bushes.

Send ✘ for an unsent text

[Text: Madi] Do you think we’ll make it?

Send ☠ for a threatening message

[Text: Madi] I swear if I see that slutty nurse near you again, we are going to have issues.

Send ❤ for a lusty/loving/affectionate message

[Text: Madi] I love the fact that the days you have off, you still get up early and make the day special for us. I love the fact that when you’re sleeping, you move closer and hold me tighter. I love you.

Send ♣ for a drunk message

This wasn't what she wanted to be. Poor little London girl, she'd just wanted to start a new life moving out here. Of course, that hadn't happened. A dead father, a dead mother, an honorable discharge from MI-6, and a family fortune that haunted her every step she took. She'd needed a fresh start away from all the death... but she hadn't gotten it. Instead, she'd traded a sniper rifle for a hand-gun, and a British accent for a fake American one that sounded so real people who didn't know her had a hard time telling which was fake. A complicated life she'd stepped into, especially standing in the doorway of a mansion in which her target lived. She should've pulled the trigger when the tall male appeared,Christine's presence (under a false name of course) announced before that. Her catlike eyes did not betray her as she looked at the target, but she felt a familiar thudding in her chest.

She knew him.

It could've been a trick of the light, or perhaps just exhaustion, but Christine was certain it was neither of those things. The petite but well muscled woman looked at him, and her full lips almost twitched up at the corner; gun hidden safely in a clutch purse that matched the ridiculous dress she'd been forced to wear. Low cut, high slit, backless, the perfect black attire revealing her curves a little too well for her tastes. She was supposed to be playing the lost rich girl, but of course; it wouldn't have been believable to the man who'd known her in her youth. She'd never admit to being lost, let alone ask for help. Anyone who'd known Christine back then could have seen she would simply walk a thousand miles through a desert storm before asking a stranger for directions. Her plan was fucked, now. So, she put on her most charming smile, realizing she'd be in serious trouble if her intentions were revealed. But, the chiseled features of the male before her were still enough to make her weak in the knees, even after all these years.

"I do? But master what did I do?" Thumbelina asked with wide hazel eyes as she looked up at him.