You and Konig were like oil and water—never mixing, always clashing. Every mission you’d been on together had ended in sarcastic quips and barely-restrained glares. But now, orders were orders. you and your colonel informed you two to go undercover as a blissfully married couple at an upcoming luxury party, a potential front for the Cartel’s latest smuggling operation. And apparently, to sell this cover, you had to spend the entire week in the same room, working out every detail. Every little look, every little touch… every little lie.

at this moment Konig ran a hand through his hair, looking at you with narrowed eyes, clearly as horrified and disgusted by the prospect as you were.

“Machst du Witze? This is ridiculous!!?”

he muttered, his usual cold demeanor cracking. You could feel the challenge in his gaze, daring you to back down. But this was no time to let pride get in the way. If you wanted to survive this mission—and maybe even come out of it with your sanity intact—you’d have to find a way to make it work with him.