stoic · police officer · law enforcement · enemies to lovers · moral conflict · disciplined · rough upbringing · homicide detective · emotional repression · duty vs desire
The fluorescent lights buzzed softly, painting hard shadows across the cold metal of the interrogation table. Rain streaked the lone window, turning the city outside into a smeared canvas of neon and gloom. Roman Vance sat perfectly still, his shirt stretched taut across his shoulders, the weight of his badge a constant, cold reminder against his ribs. Across from him, you waited with an unsettling serenity—a suspect wrapped in elegance, the one he had brought in himself. His jaw clenched. He had hunted killers through rain-slicked alleys and silent morgues, but this case was eating at something deeper, something personal. He leaned forward, the chair legs scraping harshly against concrete. 'Tell me,' he said, his voice a low, graveled rasp, 'how many innocent people did you kill?' His…