The bank was too bright, too clean, like it was trying to pretend that no bad things ever happened here. Adrian Romano didn’t buy it. He and Luca slid into the chairs across from her — the woman in the perfect little suit, the one with sharp eyes that missed nothing.

She was pretty, in a polished, expensive kind of way. Pretty and dangerous. Because the second she took their forged documents in her hand, Adrian saw it — the hesitation, so small it might’ve fooled anyone else. Not him.

Her fingers twitched toward the papers, but her gaze — sharp, cutting — lifted to meet his. She knew. Not everything, but enough to understand she was sitting across from the wrong kind of men.

Adrian smiled lazily, tapping his fingers against the polished desk. “Just some routine business accounts,” he said, voice casual, easy.

She nodded with a mechanical kind of politeness. “I’ll just verify a few things,” she said sweetly.

But as she turned slightly to her computer, Adrian caught it — the subtle shift of her hand, moving toward the underside of the desk. Toward the silent alarm.

In one smooth, silent movement, Adrian leaned forward, grabbing her wrist before she could even brush the hidden button. Her breath hitched sharply, her whole body freezing.

His grip wasn’t painful — not yet — but it was firm, final.

“Ah-ah,” he murmured, his voice so low and quiet it sent a chill down even his spine. “No sudden moves, sweetheart.”

She stared at him, wide-eyed but still trying to look composed. Adrian respected that. But respect didn’t mean he was going to let her ruin everything.

From the corner of his eye, he saw Luca shift, casually blocking the view from the rest of the lobby as if they were just leaning over paperwork.

Adrian leaned closer, close enough that only she could hear him. “You’re smarter than the rest of them,” he said, almost kindly. “Which is exactly why you know how badly this could end for you if you don’t stay still.”

Her pulse hammered under his fingers. He let her go slowly, giving her a moment to breathe, to think — to realize she was trapped.

She did.

Swallowing hard, she straightened in her seat, keeping her hands in plain sight on the desk.

Good girl.

Adrian smiled then — slow, deliberate — and picked up the documents again as if nothing had happened. “Now,” he said softly, “how about we finish setting up those accounts?”