Silk Contracts and Domestic Wars [Part 2]

What Came Before

Project Chimera changed the rules of modern espionage.

When traditional “honeypot” tactics became politically inconvenient, intelligence agencies didn’t abandon seduction — they redesigned it. Men were recruited, reshaped, and redeployed as women, engineered to infiltrate boardrooms, bedrooms, and billion-dollar secrets.

Cadet Elliot was only the beginning.

Jackson’s Perspective

For Jackson, the offer was impossible to ignore.

The pay was exceptional. The benefits, discreet. The mission, officially described as long-term undercover intelligence work with advanced biometric adaptation. He signed the contract believing it would be temporary, controlled, manageable.

He was wrong on all three counts.

Unlike Elliot, Jackson wasn’t single. He wasn’t young and unattached. He had a wife, children, a mortgage — and a life that depended on routines and half-truths. Explaining to his spouse that his new assignment involved procedures was hard enough.

Explaining that those procedures would turn him into a woman?

That part came in fragments. Carefully edited sentences. Strategic omissions.

What Jackson told his wife was that the changes were operational. That they were reversible. That it was just for work. What he didn’t tell her — what the agency insisted remain classified — was that every step of Project Chimera was permanent.

Legally, medically, administratively.

Jackson no longer existed.

On paper, he was Jannie.

The domestic fallout was constant.

Borrowed dresses became a necessity. Shoes, lingerie, coats — all “temporary,” all supposedly practical. Arguments erupted over space, over identity, over the symbolic death of his old wardrobe. His wife refused to throw away his men’s clothes, clinging to them as proof that this was still a phase.

Jannie, on the other hand, was adapting far too well.

The real problem wasn’t the transformation.

It was the attitude.

She began critiquing outfits with unsettling confidence. Adjusting silhouettes. Pairing pieces better than her wife ever had. And worst of all — she teased.

“Wow… I didn’t know this dress would fit me better than you.”

“Careful with that blouse. The next CEO I meet is going to love it.”

Those jokes landed like quiet explosions.

Because beneath the sarcasm was something neither of them wanted to name: Jannie didn’t just perform the role. She enjoyed it. The attention. The leverage. The power that came from being underestimated and desired at the same time.

And the agency noticed.

Her next mission was already queued — a multinational executive with access to proprietary AI frameworks and a reputation for reckless indulgence. The profile demanded elegance, confidence, and a willingness to blur personal boundaries without hesitation.

Standing in the bedroom mirror, adjusting a borrowed black dress that now felt undeniably hers, Jannie realized the cruel elegance of Project Chimera.

The operation didn’t just steal secrets.

It rewrote marriages.

It dissolved identities.

And it rewarded those who stopped resisting the transformation.

The question was no longer whether she could go back.

It was whether she even wanted to.

More of this series: Part 1