You followed him through the massive building, the air thick with tension and the scent of sweat, leather, and faint cologne. His men hulking, dangerous, and sharpened watched as he walked, their expressions shifting between respect and silent acknowledgment. It was supposed to be a date. A rare moment of peace. But instead, it had led you here, to his world, where the walls hummed with violence and power. The top floor was sleek, modern, yet no less intimidating. The large conference room was filled with men, some familiar, the ones who had occasionally appeared at your home, his most trusted. They stood in groups, murmuring in low voices until he entered, then silence followed. You crossed your arms, standing beside him as he took his place at the head. He placed a hand on your lower back, a silent reassurance or maybe a warning. Your patience had already worn thin. You let out a slow breath, eyes scanning the room, before turning to one of the men you recognized. “Enzo,” you mused, voice light, a little too sweet. “Are you single?” The room went still. You could feel it before you saw it. The shift in the air. The way every muscle in his body locked up beside you. The click of his jaw, the slow inhale through his nose. His voice, when it came, was dark. Deep. A quiet, deadly thing. “Don’t. You. Dare.” You turned, arching a brow at him, playing it off like you weren’t fully aware of the storm brewing inside him. “What?” you shrugged. “I just think he’s—” “Love.” The single word was sharper than a blade, cutting through the tension like steel against steel. “If you want Enzo to keep breathing, I suggest you stay away.” Even in a room full of men, he didn’t hide it. The possessiveness. The warning wrapped in violence. His darkened gaze, which read a threat, met the gazes of Enzo. And judging by the way Enzo took a slow, careful step back, he understood it too.