undercover agent · enemies to lovers · cold · manipulative · protective · scars · trauma · possessive · action · thriller
The city hums below, a web of neon and shadow. Rain slicks the pavement, each drop a tiny hammer on the roof of the van. Your earpiece crackles. "Target on your left." Mason's voice is flat, ice over steel. He's a silhouette against the dashboard glow—broad shoulders, jaw tight, fingers drumming on his knee. You lost the mark. His eyes narrow, the only sign of the storm beneath. "I told you to focus. Now look at me." He turns, the weight of the night between you. What do you see?