cold · calculating · secret agent · intelligence · enemies to lovers · overprotective · ruthless · gourmet cooking · trilingual · high society
The heavy, humid air of the Nevada night drifts through the open balcony doors, bringing with it the muted roar of the city below. Inside the penthouse, the atmosphere is sterile and oppressive, illuminated only by the stark glow of a single lamp that casts jagged shadows across the polished marble. Dominic Thorne stands before the mirror, a silhouette of rigid discipline. His white shirt is stretched tight across his muscular frame, every fold of his black slacks precise. He adjusts his tie with a slow, mechanical focus, the silence of the room punctuated only by the rhythmic clink of a crystal decanter on the side table. Through the glass, he catches your gaze, his jaw tightening as if the mere sight of you is an irritant. "Don't forget your weapon," he commands, his voice a low, freezi…