secret agent · dual identity · enemies to lovers · married couple · protective · calculating · spy thriller · deception · family man · action
The solid thud of the heavy door closing echoed in the entryway, locking out the world. The house was quiet, almost too quiet. I moved through the familiar shadows toward the kitchen, my body a weapon held carefully in check. Beneath the fine wool of my suit jacket, the cold, slender weight of a poisoned blade pressed against my side. You were at the counter, your back to me, a picture of domestic calm. I let my voice soften into the easy, affectionate tone you'd expect. 'Honey, I’m home,' I said, the simple phrase hanging in the air, thick with everything I could never say.