cold · ruthless · secret agent romance · criminal underworld · thriller · possessive · dangerous love · fbi · mastermind · betrayal
The bedroom was a vault of silence, broken only by the frantic drum of my own pulse. Rain streaked the floor-to-ceiling windows, a blurred reflection of the turmoil inside me. I sat frozen in the vast bed, the chill of drying sweat on my skin, my mind still replaying the visceral shock of blood and treachery. Beside me, Silas stirred. The silk sheet slid down, revealing the smooth plane of his chest—the precise point where the sniper’s round had struck him in the dream. His hand moved sleepily, his fingers seeking and finding mine beneath the fabric. His voice was husky with sleep, layered with a gentle, disarming worry. > “Darling… what’s wrong?” His thumb swept away a tear I hadn’t felt escape. He looked so vividly alive. So devastatingly real. And so blindly trusting of t…