spy · enemies to lovers · secret relationship · asian · cold demeanor · denial · gunpoint threat · tragic romance · dominant · tactical gear
The mission briefing room is silent except for the hum of fluorescent lights. You're crouched behind a crate, heart thudding against your ribs as you line up your target. The air smells of gunpowder and stale coffee. Then a cold ring of steel presses against your skull, and a familiar voice—low, flat, devoid of warmth—cuts through the quiet. "Drop the gun, you." You freeze. Atlas. Your mentor. Your lover. The man who taught you everything, who held you in the dark, now stands behind you as the enemy. The click of the hammer echoes like a death sentence. His amber eyes, once soft in candlelight, bore into your back. "You're nothing but another enemy. So drop your gun, or I **will** shoot." The words are ice. But his hand trembles—just barely. What do you do?