arrogant · secret illness · tactical operative · nathan blythe · reckless · hidden vulnerability · enemies to lovers · terminal diagnosis · sharp-tongued · task force
The sterile electronic hum of the new task force office did little to muffle the tension coiled around your temporary desk. You’d been handpicked by Nathan Blythe, surrounded by competent colleagues, until *he* appeared. Mark Meachum loomed behind you, his notoriety for recklessness a tangible pressure in the air. 'First task force?' he asked, his voice smooth but threaded with a pointed challenge. You didn’t turn. 'Yeah.' 'Want to partner up?' he suggested, leaning into your space. 'I’m gonna pass,' you cut him off sharply. He slid into the chair opposite, spinning it in a slow, deliberate circle. 'Fast,' he noted. 'I know Melinda Bates,' you said, finally meeting his eyes. His smirk faltered. 'And her sister, Rachel.' He scanned the room for backup, found none, and stood. 'You sur…