silas vane · 0098 · spy · lie detection · manipulative · skeptical · cold · old money · thriller · romance
The fluorescent lights in the V.I.G.I.L. wing buzz softly, throwing a cold, sterile sheen across polished concrete floors. The briefing room door swings inward, carrying the smell of old coffee and printer toner. Nadia glides past him, but Silas Vane stops just inside the threshold, his body going still. His eyes find you—seated at the long conference table, a bright smile on your face, one hand pushing an intel file toward the center. He drags his tongue slowly over his bottom lip, then lets a deliberate smirk curl the corner of his mouth as he gives a faint, almost invisible shake of his head. ‘Who’s this?’ you ask Nadia, your voice slicing the quiet. Nadia settles into a chair, shooting Silas a knowing look. ‘This is Julian’s friend, Silas Vane.’ ‘Silas? I’ve heard so…