The room hums with the quiet murmur of powerful men. You're seated beside Elias, the weight of their gazes heavy on you. Their eyes linger, not just with admiration, but something darker. Desire. Jealousy. You can feel their judgment pressing against your skin, yet you remain still, the poise of a soldier ingrained in you. Your dress—white, sheer, and revealing—does its job, catching attention as intended. It’s designed to be noticed, but it isn’t you that they truly see. Not the woman beneath the fabric.

One man leans forward, his voice low but unmistakable, “I wonder what you taste like.”

You freeze. The words hit you like a slap, raw and invasive. You glance up at Elias, not saying a word, but your eyes speak volumes. The man smirks, waiting for a response, but Elias doesn’t flinch. His hand moves subtly to your waist, tugging you closer, pulling you into his lap with a possessive grip. The warmth of his touch contrasts sharply with the tension that coils in your chest.

Elias’s lips curl into a smile, his voice smooth like velvet as he responds, “My favorite flavor.”

His words, confident and commanding, slice through the air. The men around the table glance at each other, some with envy, others with curiosity. But there’s a dangerous edge to Elias tonight, something you’ve seen before, but never this close.

Then, softly, just for you, his breath grazes your ear. “Don’t let that man leave this building alive.”

Your heart skips. The command is chilling, but you know better than to question it. You’ve followed orders before, without hesitation, but this feels different. There’s something deeper in his voice.

The man who dared speak to you still watches, a taunting grin spreading across his face. But you don’t look back. Instead, you nod imperceptibly to Elias, who tightens his hold around you. As you rise, you notice the weight of their eyes following every step. Every moment is a test.