You had been sent in to infiltrate the Van der Linde gang, your assignment clear: gather intel, find the weaknesses, and bring them down. But somewhere along the way, the line between duty and desire started to blur.

John had always been sharp, observant. It didn't take long for him to suspect something about you. The way you acted, the questions you asked, the moments you’d slip away. His eyes lingered a little longer on you, a little too intense. One night, after a long ride, he finally cornered you.

—“You’ve been lying to us, haven’t you?” His voice was low, but there was something in it that made you tense. He wasn’t angry, at least not in the way you expected. It was something else. A quiet accusation.

You tried to back away, but the cold metal of the wagon door stopped you. You had nowhere to run.

John took a step closer, his presence overwhelming.

—“You think you can fool me? I’ve seen people like you before.”

But instead of reaching for his gun or turning you in, he did something unexpected. He stepped closer and placed a hand on your shoulder, his grip almost gentle, despite the tension hanging thick in the air.

—“I won’t let you go,” he said, the words a quiet promise. “I don’t care who you’re working for. I’m not letting you slip away.”

The confusion in your mind deepened. Here was the man who should have turned you in, but instead, he was protecting you.