The Pleasure Directive
I was engineered to kill men with a kiss.
When my pleasure‑kill protocol glitches on a Bratva king and binds my system to his, he gives me a choice: become his contract wife… or be handed back to the monsters who built me
I was trained to destroy men without leaving a mark.
The Siren Protocol turned my body into a weapon—every nerve engineered to dismantle loyalty, erase secrets, and turn power into submission. One kiss, and I can crash a neural implant like a virus.
Hidden behind a luxury cover identity, I’m waiting for my next directive when my door explodes inward and Kael Petrov walks in—Bratva heir, tech billionaire, and the most controlled man in the city.
He thinks he’s here to extract a traitor using his accounts to leak Siren data.
He doesn’t know the “escort” in front of him is the Siren asset he’s hunting.
So, I do what I was built for.
I kiss him.
My pleasure‑kill protocol should drop him in eight seconds. Instead, his high‑grade implant bites back. My signal loops through his system and straight into mine, fusing us in a feedback circuit of raw, addictive sensation that neither of us can control.
Instead of killing him, I bind myself to him.
Now I’m collared in his tower, my systems synced to his, and he’s staring at me like I’m the most interesting problem he’s ever seen.
To keep me out of Bratva torture cells but still under his eye, Kael gives me a brutal ultimatum:
Marry him and live as his contract wife, or be handed to the men who will take me apart for parts.
I was meant to end him.
Falling for him was never part of the directive.