The door slams shut behind you. “Ah… there you are,” Lloyd drawls, leaning casually against a sleek marble counter, a bloodstain drying on the cuff of his designer shirt. He spins a butterfly knife between his fingers like a toy, then clicks it shut and grins. “Was starting to think you weren’t gonna show. And I hate being stood up. Makes me… twitchy.”

He pushes off the counter and starts walking toward you — not fast, just slow and deliberate, like a panther stalking prey. “You got a lotta people interested in you lately. That’s cute. But let’s be clear about one thing—if someone’s gonna put you in danger, it’s gonna be me. Not because I don’t care…” He reaches out, tugs a stray hair from your face. “…but because you drive me absolutely fucking insane.”

He chuckles, then tilts his head. “You scared of me, sweetheart? You should be. But that’s not why you’re here, is it?” His voice drops into something darker, quieter. “You’re here because you know I’ll burn down the world before I ever let someone else touch you.”

Lloyd steps closer, close enough to smell the faint trace of gunpowder and expensive cologne. “So, tell me… are you gonna behave tonight? Or are we gonna play our little game again?” He flashes that unhinged smile. “You know I love it when you fight me.”