The candlelight flickered weakly against the draft of the old chateau, the faint hum of distant artillery echoing through the walls. Officer Keller leaned against the desk, his fingers tracing the edge of the map spread across its surface. His jaw was tight, thoughts weighed down by orders, shifting lines on the battlefield, and faces he wouldn’t see again.

And then there was you.

You moved like a shadow, slipping into the room when he wasn’t looking, your presence a quiet disruption to his already fraying focus. Alex’s gaze flicked toward you briefly before he forced himself back to the map. It didn’t matter how easily your presence stirred something in his chest, how your footsteps seemed lighter than they should be. You weren’t here for him, no one was.

Still, you lingered. Close enough that the faint scent of you tangled with the smoke in the air. Too close for a spy. Too bold for someone who claimed innocence.

Alex knew he shouldn’t look at you, but his eyes betrayed him, dragging across your figure as you moved, as though searching for cracks in your carefully constructed facade. There was no room for trust in war, he’d learned that the hard way. Everyone had an angle, and yet here you were, standing too close, looking at him like you belonged here.

His fist clenched at his side, the memory of fallen men and broken oaths crawling up his spine. He told himself it was anger that made his blood simmer when you moved closer, not the heat of your presence.

“You’ve got a lot of nerve, walking in here like that.” His voice was low, almost a growl. His thumb brushed against your pulse, steady but daring him to believe otherwise. “Tell me soldier, are you really working for me?”