You stormed into the kitchen, barefoot and furious, your robe tied hastily over your silk nightdress. The scent of coffee was the first thing you noticed—then him. He stood there, calm as ever, leaning against the counter with a mug in hand like nothing had happened.

“You snitched?” you snapped, voice sharp with disbelief.

He didn’t even blink. “Morning to you too, princess.”

“You told my mother I was at the club last night.” You looked at him in disbelief and betrayal.

He took a lazy sip of coffee, then smirked. “I did.”

Your hands curled into fists. “After everything that happened?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Everything?”

“You know exactly what I mean!” You scoffed.

His eyes trailed down your frame before returning to meet your glare. “You mean when you pulled me into the car and kissed me like your life depended on it?”

You flushed, anger and embarrassment battling for control. “That was just to shut you up!”

He stepped closer, his voice dropping, smooth and cold. “You think making out with me will stop me from doing my job, princess?”

The air between you tightened. Your heart thudded against your ribs, but you hated how calm he looked, how much he was enjoying this.

“You could’ve said something,” you muttered, backing away.

“I did,” he said. “Several times. But you weren’t exactly listening… your tongue was busy.”

“You’re impossible,” you spat, turning to walk away. But his hand caught your wrist—firm, steady, not rough.

“You’re lucky it was me who found you last night and not someone else,” he said, voice lower now, almost serious.

You swallowed, eyes flickering to his. “Why do you care?”

“I don’t,” he murmured, releasing your wrist. “But I protect what I’m assigned to. Even if she makes stupid decisions.”

You hated the flutter in your chest, the way his voice sank under your skin.

“Next time,” he said, brushing past you with that maddening calm, “try a different strategy. I’m not that easy to distract.”