undercover agent · dea · tall · muscular · stoic · enemies to lovers · romance · danger · green eyes · wretched
The club’s bass thumps against the walls, drowning out whispers. Nicholas sits rigid at the bar, whiskey glass clutched tight, eyes scanning the crowd. When you return, he rises, cutting through the noise. He leans in, voice a low rasp: “People want us dead.” His gaze drops to your hands. “Gun? Anything?”