1 The day I woke up in the body of a mafia kingpin's canary, I laid all my cards on the table. “If I help you find your true love,” I told him, “I can go back to my own world.” Damien listened, then threw his head back and roared with laughter. Just when I thought it was a lost cause, he yanked me into his arms. “Interesting,” he purred, his voice a low growl against my ear. “This one’s mine.” And just like that, I became his one and only canary. I tried to remind him every now and then, nudging him to look at other women, to search for his soulmate. But each attempt ended with me pinned to his bed, punished until I couldn’t walk for days. As he ripped another piece of my lingerie, he'd whisper teasingly, “Did your little system of yours tell you that once you're my bird, you never fly away?” After a while, the thought of going home didn't seem so urgent anymore. Until the day he brought her back—the sister of his sworn enemy. The girl, Heike, plunged a knife into his back, her eyes red with fury. “I’ll kill you one day,” she spat, “to avenge my brother.” He didn't even flinch. Instead, he gritted his teeth through the pain and nodded. “I’ll be waiting.” In that moment, the mission progress bar, stuck at 0% for eight long years, quietly ticked up to 10. 2 That night, for the first time, Damien didn't come to my room. I found him in the villa’s garden, a cigarette dangling from his lips, his brow furrowed in thought. His gaze kept drifting up to a single window on the second floor. I followed his line of sight. It was the room he had just arranged for Heike. It had to be her. She was the one. My mission was finally moving forward. I should have been thrilled. But for some reason, a bitter sting crept into my nose, my eyes burning. The night air was damp and heavy; I was probably just catching a cold. I quickly brewed a cup of hot ginger tea and brought it to him. He looked up, a faint smile touching his lips. He held out a credit card. My hand paused as I set down the mug. I didn't take it. A flicker of confusion crossed Damien’s face. “What’s wrong? Isn’t this how it always is?” he asked, pushing the card closer. “Take it. Go buy a bag you like.” He was right. This was us. For eight years, I had played my part as the perfect canary. I took his money, never his love. Whenever I was especially attentive, it meant my funds were running low. And he never skimped on spoiling me. A cup of hot tea for a credit card. It was a fair trade. I forced a smile and took the card, my voice dripping with the practiced sweetness of a courtesan. “Thank you, Damien.” Ordinarily, this would be his cue to pull me into his arms and claim his prize right then and there. But he just nodded, his gaze already drifting back towards the house. The money was in my hand, yet for the first time, I felt a pang of disappointment. This was a bad sign. I couldn't let myself get attached. As a task-runner, I was destined to leave. I spent the night drawing up a new plan. I had to speed things up between them. The next morning, I knocked on Heike’s door, all bright and bubbly. I grabbed her hand, insisting on taking her to the most expensive, Michelin-starred breakfast spot in the city. She violently shook me off. “You’re not afraid you’ll end up dead in a ditch, being a whore for a monster like that?” Her words struck me silent. You’ll see how good he is soon enough, I thought. Despite her reluctance, I dragged her to the restaurant. And there, she saw Damien, crouched in a back alley, gently feeding a stray cat. She saw him handing a warm parcel of food to a lonely old woman. “Hmph. Just for show,” she muttered, her tone as hard as ever. But I saw it—the flicker of softness in her eyes. 3 Heike was stubborn. She’d sworn to kill Damien, and she tried every single day, in a hundred different ways. When Damien went on a raid, she’d leak his location to a rival gang, getting him ambushed. When he had a negotiation, she’d tip off the cops, nearly getting him killed as a snitch. The most absurd was when Damien and I were trying to get a little adventurous with some roleplay in his car. She actually called the police and reported him for soliciting a prostitute. Furious, I confronted her. “Why did you have to drag me into it?” She looked at me with righteous indignation. “Have you no shame? How could you let yourself be with a monster like that!” In all my years with Damien, no one had ever dared to insult me like that. I raised my hand to strike her, but Damien caught my wrist. “She’s just a kid, Elara. Let it go.” “So I’m just supposed to let her call me a whore?!” To placate me, Damien replaced my supplementary card with a black card with no spending limit. No matter how many times she put his life in danger, he never got angry with her. It was as if he was enjoying this deadly game of cat and mouse. Slowly, a strange chemistry began to brew between them. It all came to a head on her 99th attempt on his life. As she crept into his room, ready to inject potassium chloride into his heart while he slept, he snapped awake, flipping her onto her back and pinning her beneath him. The spark that ignited between them was so intense a blind man could have felt it. I stood just outside the door, watching as Damien’s lips crashed down on hers. She didn't resist. After a moment, she pushed him away, her face flushed a deep crimson. And then, they were kissing again, more fiercely this time. Shreds of clothing littered the floor. In that instant, my mission progress shot up by 40%. I knew Damien too well. I was the one who taught Heike all those assassination techniques. I was the one pulling the strings behind their little chase. Everything was going according to my plan. So why did my own heart ache with a dull, persistent throb? 4 From that day on, an unspoken understanding formed between them. In public, they were daggers drawn. In private, their stolen glances were electric. It culminated when Damien finally uncovered the truth about her brother Connor’s death. He presented her with proof, irrefutable evidence that he wasn't the killer. He showed her that they could be together, openly, without the shadow of revenge hanging over them. The day the truth came out, Damien gave her a handmade ragdoll. “I had someone teach me how to make this,” he said softly. “Let him watch over you, in your brother’s place.” Heike clutched the doll and wept. Then she threw her arms around Damien and wept some more. The ice around her heart finally melted, revealing the vulnerable woman beneath. The scene was so perfect, so beautiful. But some devilish impulse made me walk over to them. I held out my hand to Damien. “I want one too.” Damien stared at me, confused. “Want what?” I pointed at the doll in Heike’s arms. “The one you made.” He let out a short, incredulous laugh. “Don't be ridiculous, Elara. You’ve only ever wanted jewelry and bags.” He pulled a thick wad of cash from his jacket and pressed it into my hand. “This is what you want.” I didn’t move, my hand still outstretched. For the first time in eight years, I let myself be difficult. I threw the cash on the floor. “No. I want the doll.” Damien’s expression turned to ice. “Know your place, Elara. Don’t ask for things that aren’t yours.” Heike glanced between us, looking uneasy. “Elara, this doll… it represents my brother. If you really like it, I can ask Damien to buy you another one, okay?” “‘Damien’?” I scoffed. “What happened to ‘that monster’?” A blush crept up Heike’s neck. “No, it’s not… Damien is…” “You don’t have to explain anything to her,” Damien cut in, pulling Heike behind him protectively. His voice was cold, distant. “She’s nothing to me.” I stared at him, my world tilting on its axis. He was right. What was I to him? I lowered my eyes, hiding the raw humiliation I felt. Seeing me retreat, he seemed to hesitate, letting out a soft sigh. “Alright, stop making a scene,” he said, his tone softening slightly. “I’ve already ordered you a new Hermès bag. Limited edition.” He took Heike’s hand and started to walk away. His touch was so gentle, nothing like the rough way he always grabbed me. “Are you coming to my room tonight?” The words tumbled out of my mouth before I could stop them. He paused for a heartbeat. Then, without another word, he led Heike away. I stood frozen, staring at the scattered bills on the floor. A bitter, hysterical laugh escaped my lips. Elara, you’re just a canary. What were you thinking, wishing for love? 5 I could be obedient, but that didn't mean I couldn't be defiant. I took the money Damien gave me and used it to hire twenty of the city's finest male escorts. I was surrounded by a sea of chiseled abs and sculpted chests, my head swimming, when a man fully clothed strode into the room, sucking all the air out with him. “Who killed the mood? Get out!” I slurred. “Buzzkill!” Before another word could leave my lips, Damien had scooped me up into his arms. “Elara,” he growled, a dangerous current running through his voice, “you’re getting bold.” The palpable threat radiating from him sent my escorts scrambling for the door. I drunkenly poked him in the nose, my words thick. “Mr. Kingpin, even canaries get to clock out.” I held up a finger. “I haven’t had a single day off in eight years. I am officially informing you… that I… am going… on strike!” He let me jab at his face, his expression unreadable. “Fine, fine. You can go on strike. But you still have to come home, don't you?” “Home?” I cackled. “I don’t have a home! That’s a birdcage! A gilded cage for your little canary! Hahaha…” The laughter morphed into sobs. The sight of my tears always made Damien helpless. He awkwardly pulled me into a hug, gently stroking my hair. “Okay, don’t cry. Let’s go home.” Suddenly, I felt like a lost child, all my hurt and frustration pouring out. I buried my face in his chest and wailed, clinging to him for dear life. I don’t know how long I cried. When I finally lifted my head, I realized there was a third person in the room. Heike was standing there, silent and still, her lips pressed into a thin line, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. I froze, then scrambled out of Damien’s arms. “You brought her with you?” I demanded, pointing at Heike. Damien nodded. “I couldn’t leave her at home alone. I was worried.” Heike wiped a tear from the corner of her eye and reached for my hand. “Elara, let’s go home.” This time, I was the one who snatched my hand away. I scrubbed the tears from my own face, erasing every trace of weakness and vulnerability. “You two go home. That’s your home.” I reached for another bottle on the table. “That’s enough! Stop drinking!” Damien tried to grab the bottle, but I held on tight. In the struggle, the bottle slipped from my grasp, sailing through the air. It shattered with a sickening crack. Right against Heike’s head. Glass and blood sprayed across the floor. I stood there, stunned. Damien went berserk. He swept Heike into his arms and bolted for the door. “Wait! I—” He turned back, and the indulgence I had always seen in his eyes was gone. In its place was an endless, chilling frost. His voice trembled with barely controlled rage. “If anything happens to Heike, I will never forgive you.”
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