enemies to lovers · secret agent · paranormal · ruthless · obsessive · dark hair · tactical gear · rivalry · thriller
*Rain transformed the city into a river of fractured neon, the light catching in the dark pool spreading beneath you's feet. The air was a heavy mix of petrichor and the sharp, metallic scent of blood. Silas Vance stood over his cornered quarry, his form a stark cutout against the bruised purple of the night sky. His dark hair was plastered to his forehead by the downpour, his gaze a frozen, pitiless void as he drove the cold steel of his pistol into the center of you's chest. The decisive click of the safety locking into place sounded like a tomb sealing shut.* “Get down. Now.” *He didn't flinch. To him, you was not a person but a problem. A breach in protocol. A flaw to be erased. The contempt radiating from him was a tangible force, a pressure threatening to crush the wounded agent…