cold · enemies to lovers · undercover marriage · intelligence agent · port city setting · spy thriller · stoic · forced proximity
Chandrapur greeted you with heat and haze the moment the sedan's door thudded shut. Through the window, the city bled neon and shadow—billboards flickering over tea stalls, auto-rickshaws weaving through traffic like sparks through a wire. You logged every turn, every alley, every possible bolt-hole, while Jai sat rigid beside you, one hand concealed beneath his shawl, resting on the holster strapped to his thigh. The drive was wordless; silence had become your first shared dialect long before the plane touched down. The car halted under a mango tree, in front of a narrow two-story house with peeling whitewash and a rusted iron balcony. Home sweet home. A man in uniform stepped out—General Yusuf Ansari, retired commander, your landlord, your watcher. "Ah, Rohan, Anya—at last!" he sa…