Keeping Up with the Richters

Newlyweds Luna and Alex just want a quiet life between missions. A clawfoot tub, a conservatory for morning tea, maybe a rhubarb patch. Sure, they installed bulletproof windows and a hidden bunker in the cellar—but that’s just common sense when you’re a pair of professional spies.

Now they’re blending in (mostly). She joins yoga and book club, he mows the lawn shirtless. Neither of them has technically killed anyone on village property.

Until the nosy Women’s Institute gets even nosier. Until the ex-Army pensioners start conspiring theories. Until a severed hand turns up in the hedgerow behind the church.

The domestic dream is dead—and possibly someone else, too.