Chapter Twelve - Spy 101

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Beep.

A small green light flashes on the card reader. The metal door handle feels cold against my hand and I freeze yet again.

This is it. There is no going back, Mackenzie.

I gulp, gathering every ounce of wits inside me before opening the door. Soft lights begin to turn on automatically inside the previously dark room and I'm frozen in awe by the sight before me. Never in my life have I seen a more luxurious nor classier apartment than this.

I plod carefully into the room. Greeting me inside is the cool breeze from the central air conditioner. On my left, there is a whimsical mirror hanged on the wall over a sleek silver console table, six photos are neatly arranged on it. I close the door and stop to observe the photos.

The first photo that grabs my attention is the biggest one right in the middle – the Hamilton family photo. The 8R photo is obviously taken at a posh studio. In it, a clean-shaven Mark is standing side-by-side with a brown-haired teenage girl, who is probably only a few years younger than him. She has the same oval face and deep, close-set eyes, although her jawline is a little more prominent than his. The beautiful girl is wearing a peach-colored dress that complements her ivory skin perfectly, while Mark is wearing a white-on-white suit that makes him look like a freaking prince.

Meanwhile, their parents are sitting side by side on huge thrones – ahem, chairs – in front of them. Looking at this family photo is like looking at a royal family indeed.

Then, the picture next to the family photo causes my brows to furrow. Huh? Why is he photographed with a bunch of clowns?

In the photo, Mark is wearing a huge, contented smile as he is standing side-by-side with four grown men. The men all have thick, white paint on their faces with some black paint around their eyes. One of them even has two black lines painted on each side of his face, resembling a cat's whiskers. All of them wear huge, black hair and all-black outfits. The spotlights and stage behind them make me think they're in a concert or something.

Hmm... Perhaps they're not clowns after all.

I continue to observe the rest of the photos. I can tell by the photos that he's a sports junkie. In one of the photos, Mark is photographed flying mid-air – literally. He is wearing a black-and-yellow skydiving jumpsuit, a gleeful smile plastered on his handsome face.

Hmm... so, he's into extreme sports, huh? My head tilts slightly as my lips form a straight line. This guy seems like my total opposite. I hate extreme sports – or any other sports, really. Is it really possible for me to date this kind of guy?

But... people say opposites attract. So, maybe this is a good thing.

Then, the last photo on the right makes my mouth water in an instant. In the photo, Mark is standing in the middle of a boxing ring – shirtless. He's only wearing a pair of black shorts and red boxing gloves while holding a huge championship belt with both hands. My gaze is fixated on his perfect abs. Sophia was right – he does have the body of a Greek God. Before I know it, a drop of drool falls from my mouth.

Shoot! Pull yourself together, Mackenzie! I inhale loudly and wipe the drool off with the back of my hand.

Then, I start to focus my thoughts on my mission. What should I do?

Ah, yes! Photos! I take out my phone from my bag and snap a few pictures of the photos on the table.

I let out a small sigh before continuing to walk towards the vast living room. On my left, there's a sleek, white kitchen island near the similarly white-colored pantry. A minimalist square lamp is hung above the countertop.

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