I know fifteen languages, I have twenty-seven identities, and know how to kill a man thirty-two different ways with my bare hands. So how did I run into you? How out of all six billion people in the world did we cross paths? You know me from school, I know you for being in One Direction. So leave me when you can, Zayn Malik, because I'm the world's most wanted secret agent and I'm only nineteen. But before you go, I want you to kiss me but I need you to Baise-Moi.

*Ages +15* **Some words are in French, you can use Google Translate for translation purposes**


2. Run In

Please remember that this story is rated +15, so please do not judge the story on language or mature content. It was created for mature readers. 

"Age is just a number, maturity is a choice," ~Harry Styles

I sat up in bed, my head pounding. I placed my palm on my head applying pressure.

Last night....

"Fuck, the diamond," I jumped out of my bed and ran over to my backpack. I unzipped it and smiled at the crystal. I leaned against the wall in relief. "Time to get to headquarters." 

The diamond that I stole last night was placed in a ring which I put on my finger. That was the best place for me to keep it. I got dressed and headed out of my apartment. I put on a pair of dark sunglasses as I walked down the streets of London. 

I entered the same cafe I do every morning, not taking my sunglasses off for one second, because I knew they were watching me. They were always watching. 

"Tea," I said to the girl behind the counter. She gave me a cup filled with the warm liquid, then I pulled out my wallet to pay. 

"That's a gorgeous ring," she said pointing to the diamond on my finger.

"It was my grandmother's," I smiled then handed her a couple of paper bills. "Keep the change." 

"This is thirty pounds," she said but I ignored her and headed for the door. As I was about to the open the door another person got there before me. 

It was a boy. Eighteen, nineteen tops. He had darker skin and black hair that he kept styled. Wait that looks like--shit, it is. I lowered my head so he knew I was ignoring him. 

"Sorry," he said. That damn Bradford accent. 

I nodded and then left the cafe. 



I stopped and turned around. "Zayn?" 

"Yeah it's been forever." 

"Yep," I kept the conversation short. Well tried. "Sorry, but I have to get going." 

"We should meet up some time," he said. 


"Dinner tonight at Skylon." 


"I'll pick you up."

"No I can manage. Eight?" 


I turned back around. 

"Oh and Giselle?" 

Go. Away. "Yes?" 

"Nice to see you again." 

"You too." 

Please go away. I beg of you. I turned around and kept walking. I needed to get to HQ so I stopped and waved for a taxi. One stopped and I got inside. The inside of the car was warm, which I was thankful for. It was December and cold in London. 

"Hello George," I said as I got into the taxi. 

"Good morning Giselle." 

"I need to get to headquarters," I said to him. George and I worked together. He was actually my partner and lover. Ever since I was promoted to do my own work, we had to break off any relationships. George was three years older than me and not too bad in bed either. 

Wanna know who I am? My name is Giselle Claudeta but I have twenty-six other names. All of Russia, America, and France is after me. I work for the great country of England. I would tell you more, but then I would have to kill you. 

You know James Bond? Let's just say I'm the female version of him. 

Except I'm only nineteen. The youngest and most wanted secret agent in the world. Just don't tell anyone I told you that. 

"I can be there in seven and half minutes," he said. 



I got out of the taxi as he pulled along a business building. Which looked like what it was called a: business building. I showed my pass to security, then headed for the elevator. 

"Thumbprint," said the machine. I placed my thumb over the scanner. "Welcome back Agent Claudeta." The elevator doors opened and I pressed the floor I wanted. 

Once I reached the floor I was greeted by a room of people walking around. "Giselle!" 

I took off my sunglasses and headed to Red. He was the boss around here and the one I take orders from. 

"Did you get it?" I lay out my hand for him. "Gorgeous. Who knew that this small diamond could do so much. Take it--."

"To Bradford, I know. Why Bradford though?" 

"Some place those blasted Americans won't find it." 

"So I guess I'm moving back to my hometown," I said. 

"Fantastic! Are you staying with your family."

"Fortunately not," I said. "I'll stay at the apartment. Who is the diamond being handed over too?" 

"Trisha Malik."

"Zayn's mum? You do realize that he's part of that boy band." 

"I know and they would never think we would hand the diamond over to a celebrity. Supposedly Zayn ordered a diamond ring for his mother at a jeweler in Bradford. You're job is to get there and give over the ring. You'll stay there for a couple of weeks and be their safety until we know the others have stopped looking for it."


"Giselle this is your job. Don't let personal matters get involved." 

"I'm not stupid."

"Good then you'll be on your way then."

"Yes," then I turned and headed back down to the lobby and into the same taxi I arrived in. 

"Where are we heading too next?" 


"That's going to be a couple of hours."

"Make it last," I smiled at him in through the rear view mirror. "I'm going to change," I said. 

"Of course." 

I pulled out my bag and grabbed a new set of clothes and wig. Once my clothing was changed, my identity changed as well. 

"Good morning, Isabella," said George. 

"Good morning," I said in an Italian accent. 

Alright, there is the first chapter! I will not be updating this story for a couple more weeks though. Please be patient! I really want to focus on Meet Me In America and For The Love Of Clara! Thanks for understanding!

Much love, Morgan .xx

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