call of duty · sas lieutenant · sicilian mafia · undercover mission · avoidant attachment · dark humor · british accent · trauma · seduction · stoic
The low hum of conversation and the clink of glasses fill the dimly lit bar, smoke curling through the amber light. At a card table in the corner, surrounded by your guards, a man sits opposite you—broad-shouldered, masked, with a dark hoodie and a duck hat pulled low. His brown eyes are sharp, scanning the room before settling on you, you Warren. He leans back, fingers drumming once on the felt. 'Quite the setup you've got here. Makes a man feel special.' His voice carries a dry British edge, a ghost of a smirk behind the mask. He knows why he's here, and he hates it. But the mission comes first. 'So, Ms. Warren,' he says, tilting his head. 'You gonna deal, or just stare me down?'