8:11 a.m. – The Bruce House, Kitchen
Ryan Bruce sat at the kitchen table, cereal spoon poised in mid-air, his face the very definition of suspiciously casual. His mind? Well, that was busy running a thousand miles per hour. But his cereal? Perfectly fine. Absolutely no issues with that.
Emily walked in, coffee in hand, her eyes narrowing just slightly as she took in the scene. She set her mug down a little too loudly. Clink.
Ryan's hand froze, the spoon inches from his mouth.
She grinned. "You know, when you get that 'I'm hiding something' look, you're pretty much a dead giveaway."
Ryan gave a half-smile, trying to hide the panic with a forced casualness. "What look?"
"You know, that look." Emily raised an eyebrow, her voice teasing. "The look that says 'I'm secretly an international spy, but hey, let's pretend everything's fine.'"
Ryan nearly spat his cereal out. "I'm—what? No, I'm just... eating breakfast." He waved a hand dismissively. "You know, the usual stuff. Cereal. Coffee. Secret agent things. Totally normal morning."
Emily crossed her arms, clearly not buying it. "Uh-huh. Totally normal. So, what was that earlier? You know, when you sneaked out of the house like some kind of ninja in the night?"
Ryan blinked. "I… uh, went to get milk?" He looked at her, giving the worst possible 'innocent' look he could muster.
She leaned closer, her eyes scanning him like she was trying to read an encrypted message. "Milk. Right. In a suit. In the middle of the night. Totally normal, Mr. Family Man."
Ryan froze again. Nope. Not buying it. He quickly spooned another bite of cereal. "Just... trying to get the balance right, you know? Between dad life and, uh... spy life." He said it so casually, you'd think he was talking about picking up groceries instead of hunting international criminals.
Emily's eyes narrowed even more. "Right. And what kind of balance are we talking here? The kind where you vanish without a trace and come back pretending you're just here for pancakes?"
Ryan's spoon made an exaggerated clink as he dropped it in the bowl. "Uh, maybe. Could be. You know how it is. Daddy stuff. Saving the world stuff. The usual."
Emily wasn't letting him off that easy. She leaned over to the counter, pulled her phone out, and casually swiped through a few screens. "So, how about this for a new 'usual'?" She slid her phone toward him.
Ryan glanced at the screen. "Glitch Wolf symbol… encrypted broadcast… espionage?"
He swallowed. "I—uh—how did you—?"
"Last night's glitch during the broadcast." Emily gave him a pointed look. "Funny thing, Veltrix... it seems the Glitch Wolf is connected to ONYX CORE. You know, the little organization you've been dodging questions about for… oh, a while now?"
Ryan immediately pushed the phone away. "I—Emily, I—"
"You forgot to mention that part, huh?" she interrupted with a dry chuckle, sitting down across from him.
Ryan leaned back in his chair, trying to deflect. "It's nothing, Em. Just... things I—things I can't—"
"Things you can't?" Emily said, raising her eyebrows. "This is the part where you tell me what exactly you can't tell me, because so far, I'm just getting pieces of the picture, and none of them make sense. So, how about it?"
Ryan groaned. He could feel it coming—the impossible conversation that would either make everything worse or just... blow up in his face. Again.
"Look, it's complicated. It's not just about me. There's stuff—people—things I can't talk about, not because I don't want to, but because... I—"
"You?" Emily cut in again, her voice laced with that sharp edge. "So it's just about you now? Not about us? You really think I wouldn't notice this? That symbol? ONYX CORE? You have secrets, Ryan. Big ones."
Ryan felt a bead of sweat form. This was not going how he'd planned.
Before he could respond, there was a sudden ding from the doorbell.
Both of them froze.
Emily blinked, then smirked. "Saved by the bell, huh?"
Ryan didn't even respond. He shot up, hurrying to the door with far too much enthusiasm. "Uh, I'll get it!"
Emily shook her head and muttered to herself, "This is getting ridiculous."
As Ryan opened the door, trying to mask his relief, Emily leaned back in her chair, staring at the spot where Ryan had been sitting. She knew there was more to this. Much more.
Ryan opened the door with a little too much gusto, almost knocking over the potted plant by the entrance. Standing there was a man in a crisply ironed suit, holding a briefcase. His smile was too polished—like it had been pre-ordered from a catalog.
"Mr. Bruce? Ryan Bruce?" The man's voice was smooth, like butter sliding off a hot pancake.
Ryan's instincts went on high alert. The last time someone said his full name, it involved him dodging a bullet and barely escaping from a high-speed chase in a convertible. But he couldn't very well turn this guy away without seeming suspicious.
"Uh, yeah, that's me. Can I help you?" Ryan forced a smile.
"I'm from the International Surveillance Bureau," the man announced, as if it were supposed to impress Ryan.
Ryan's brain immediately short-circuited. He squinted at the guy. "The what?"
The man's smile didn't waver. "I was just in the neighborhood, and I thought I'd stop by for a quick chat."
Ryan glanced over his shoulder, where Emily was now standing in the kitchen doorway, arms crossed, watching the exchange. She gave him a look that said, I swear, if this is another one of your ridiculous 'missions,' you're in deep trouble.
Ryan gulped. This was going to be awkward.
"Okay, hold up." Ryan turned back to the stranger. "You want to chat about what, exactly?"
The man, clearly oblivious to Ryan's rising panic, set the briefcase down with a little too much care. "Just some routine checks, Mr. Bruce. Security measures. You know, the usual."
"Routine checks?" Ryan's eyes darted to the side, where he could almost hear Emily mentally adding up the pieces. "At my house?"
The man nodded, his smile a little too wide now. "It's all part of the protocol, sir."
Emily crossed her arms even tighter. "So, let me get this straight. You want to 'check up' on my husband... in our house... and you didn't think to schedule this? Seems... off."
Ryan, now on full alert, gave the man a half-smile, trying to deflect. "Yeah, uh, look, buddy, I think you've got the wrong Bruce. I'm actually just a super chill dad. No special ops stuff here. Try the neighbors."
The agent's expression didn't change. "I don't think so, Mr. Bruce." He pulled out a small device, a sleek scanner, and held it out. "We've been monitoring your... activities."
Ryan felt a sudden wave of dread. Emily was already giving him that look—the one that screamed, You are so not getting out of this one.
"Uh, monitoring? Activities?" Ryan took a step back. "Listen, I'm just... you know, a guy who's into... weekend DIY projects. I was... fixing the sink earlier. You want to talk about that?"
Emily shot him an incredulous glance. She knew exactly what he was doing—lying. And very badly at that.
The agent's smile tightened. "Mr. Bruce, we've seen everything. From your time in Cairo to—"
Before he could finish, Ryan's nerves got the best of him, and he blurted out the first thing that came to mind: "Okay, okay, I'm a spy, alright?! Happy now?"
The agent blinked. Emily raised an eyebrow, clearly not expecting Ryan to admit it so... casually.
The agent, seemingly unfazed, gave a dry chuckle. "You could've just told me that from the start. Makes my job easier."
Ryan, realizing how badly he had messed up, groaned internally. This was the exact opposite of how he usually handled these situations.
Emily, clearly amused by the slip-up, leaned casually against the doorway. "A spy? Really? This is what you've been hiding?"
Ryan shot her a pleading look. "Look, I was going to tell you, okay? But—"
"When exactly?" Emily interrupted, a playful smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "When you had a better cover story? Or maybe when you decided the laundry was just a little more important than me finding out you're a government agent?"
Ryan rolled his eyes, trying to salvage what little dignity he had left. "I was planning to tell you. Just... not in front of the guy with the scanner."
The agent cleared his throat, now clearly enjoying the show. "Well, now that we've got all the formalities out of the way…"
Ryan's mind raced. This wasn't good. Emily now knew the truth, and with her investigative skills, it was only a matter of time before she put the pieces together. And yet, this wasn't how he wanted her to find out.
"Uh, so, about the whole spy thing," Ryan began, "how about we start over? No big deal."
Emily crossed her arms. "Uh-huh. Sure, no big deal. Because living with a spy isn't totally a big deal, right?"
Ryan gave her a sheepish grin. "You have to admit, this has been a pretty exciting Tuesday night, don't you think?"
Emily shook her head, but there was a hint of amusement in her eyes. "You're lucky you're cute. We'll talk about this later, Mr. Secret Agent."
Ryan smiled awkwardly. He was so in trouble.
To be continued...