— You’d only just begun your shift at the tavern, the bustle of the evening crowd rising like dust in the dry Australian air. As the town’s hostess, you were used to rowdy men and loose talk, but tonight felt different. A pair of cowboys—drunk, entitled, and far too handsy—had made you their target. You tried to laugh it off, to keep the peace, but their words were slurred with menace, their hands straying further with each drink. The other patrons looked away. No one dared intervene.

Until the doors swung open.

The room fell into a hush as Marston stepped inside, boots clicking against the wooden floor. You felt a jolt in your chest. Everyone knew him—wealthy, feared, dangerous. A man with a reputation soaked in blood and power, who hunted not just animals, but anything that dared challenge his pride. He was not a man who saved people. And yet, his cold eyes locked on yours, then flicked to the cowboys.

“Is there a problem, gentlemen?” he asked, his voice smooth as silk but sharp as a blade.

The cowboys stiffened. One of them scoffed, half-laughing, trying to play brave. “Just having a little fun.”

Marston didn’t blink. He stepped closer, towering over them, his gloved hand resting deliberately on the butt of his revolver. “I don’t believe the lady’s enjoying herself.” His tone stayed even, but the weight in it could crush a man.

They faltered, muttered curses, and backed off, slipping out the door with the shame of cowards.

You stood frozen, still catching your breath.

Marston turned to you, his gaze unreadable. “You should be more careful. This town has teeth.”

So did he. But tonight, they weren’t aimed at you.

And for a moment, you wondered if there was more behind that cruel mask than anyone dared to see.