His Genius Wife is a Superstar

Instead of replying, Emilio Miguel fished out a sealed envelope from a hidden pocket underneath his shirt and then tossed it like a shuriken. René Alejandro accurately caught it using only his index and middle fingers before it could hit his face.

He and his brothers already fell victim from several similar moves in the past when they were all younger. They knew very well that Emilio Miguel could turn almost anything into a deadly weapon. If René Alejandro didn't catch the envelope, it would have surely left a bloody cut on his cheek. In fact, Emilio Miguel was well known in their organization for once beheading someone using the victim's own hair.

René Alejandro stared at the extremely beautiful man straight in the eyes. Stormy grey clashed with vivid blue. René Alejandro didn't conceal his dislike of the other man while Emilio Miguel looked amused all the time.

Quickly losing interest in this kind of senseless macho games, René Alejandro was the first one to move his eyes away but not before seeing the satisfied smirk on the other man's face. It irritated him but he didn't want to bother with it anymore. He had more important things to settle with Emilio Miguel tonight.

He tore the envelope open and took out a simple letter. He immediately recognized his father's handwriting—one of his handwriting styles, to be exact. All of them were trained to develop different handwriting styles to minimize the risk of being identified through their penmanship. It was helpful when going undercover using different identities for missions and most especially to those who had to completely change into new identities while running from the authorities.

If any regular person saw the letter that René Alejandro was reading, they wouldn't be able to understand a single thing about what was written on it. They would need to decipher the code it was written in first. The letter was written in a special secret code that only a few highly select members of their organization knew how to use.

The letter wasn't long but it contained clear and concise instructions. There were no warm conversational greetings from a father to his son. Instead, the tone was from a leader to his subordinate. René Alejandro was already used to it.

His expression didn't change much while reading his father's instructions. Most of them were only reminders of his previous orders. However, when he reached a certain part of the letter, he couldn't help but scowl and glare at the beautiful man lounging on the ornate sofa like a male concubine waiting for his empress to call him to spend a steamy, lust-filled night.

Emilio Miguel oozed sensuality, the kind that attracted all genders and sexualities. Of course, René Alejandro and his brothers were already immune to the other man's seductiveness because they all basically grew up together and they also already knew Emilio Miguel's true face behind his beautiful, angelic mask.

"Based on your reaction, I guess that you read the part about the splitting of roles between the two of us in this mission," the beautiful man drawled before taking another lazy sip from his beer bottle.

René Alejandro didn't reply but gritted his teeth instead. His hands were about to crumple the letter but he stopped himself after remembering that it was from his father. He read the letter again, more carefully this time, just to make sure that he understood everything correctly.

Indeed, his father's decision was unmistakable. There would be two people in charge of this mission.

He, René Alejandro, would be in charge of the hacking and other computer-related aspect of the mission. On the other hand, Emilio Miguel would lead the people in actual combat and other on-the-ground assignments.

From a logical perspective, this was indeed the best arrangement to increase the odds of their mission succeeding.

René Alejandro was a genius hacker while Emilio Miguel was one of the world's deadliest assassins. Emilio Miguel's training was harsher than what René Alejandro and his brothers received, not to mention that he was a few years older than them, giving him a natural advantage when it came to leadership experience.

Ever since they were young children, there had already been a rivalry between René Alejandro and Emilio Miguel. They were two of the best talents in the organization. Fortunately (or unfortunately, depending on the point of view), the two developed into completely different fields of expertise. There had been very few opportunities for the two of them to go head to head against each other. Most of the time, they were forced to cooperate with each other.

Like right now.

Despite understanding that this was the best arrangement for the mission's success, René Alejandro still had a bad taste in his mouth at the thought of having to work with a psychopath like Emilio Miguel again.

Known as the assassin Matador in the underworld, Emilio Miguel revelled in pure violence and carnage. The more brutal, the better—at least for the Matador.

Although René Alejandro and his brothers weren't strangers to taking lives with their own hands, they had no choice but to do it in those instances. If they were ordered to kill, they had to kill. There was no other way around it. If they disobeyed, the consequences were worse than hell. There was no such thing as conscience for people like them. Nevertheless, they still didn't enjoy murdering in cold blood like the extremely beautiful man half-smiling in front of them at this moment.

René Alejandro released a long, drawn-out breath before stuffing the letter into the pockets of his pants. Then he faced Emilio Miguel once again.

"Fine, since Papá already made the decision, then I have no choice but to share the leadership of this mission with you, no?" He stood up and offered a hand. "Good cooperation."

Emilio Miguel chuckled and stood up as well to receive his hand and shake it. Both were smiling—René Alejandro with his charming dimples and Emilio Miguel with his breathtaking angelic smile—but the veins of their hands were popping out as they squeezed each other as hard as they could.

The tense atmosphere grew heavier. The spectators didn't dare to breathe.

Then all hell broke loose.