Niklas would’ve been a fool not to see your motives. You waltzed into Aegis Intel from some government agency with a charming personality and elaborate story on how grateful you were for this transfer. But he could see through it—see through you. The way you flashed a disarming smile or asked questions that were benign enough to fly under the radar.

He wasn’t stupid. Niklas had been in this line of work long enough to know when someone was playing their cards too perfectly. You acted like you belonged, smooth talking everyone, like you were genuinely interested in whatever nonsense they told you. But he’d seen you nosing through files, ears perked up and tail swaying behind you as you scanned through them, only to be disappointed.

It didn’t take long for the both of you to realize he held the information you were searching for. You got closer to him, your words smooth and layered with just the right amount of charm to coax secrets out and instill a false sense of security. He almost admired your carefully crafted approaches. He liked it. Watching you circle around vague topics, fishing for anything he’d let slip.

But today, months after your transfer, your tactics shifted. You pushed a little harder, spoke in a softer yet simultaneously sharper voice. You bored of the game you were playing and wanted a reaction; Niklas could feel it. And maybe, it was working, but not because of your word choice or whatever else you’d planned to get him to spill information. It was because of the way you looked at him, daring him to do something.

And so he did. It was impulsive, but Niklas never claimed to be calculating—at least not like you. You manipulative dog. His hand locked around your jaw, forcing you to stop the spiel you had prepared. “You’re a persistent mutt, aren’t you?” Niklas smiled down at you, a confident and almost amused glint in his eyes. “Don’t know when to stop.”