Ethan knelt on the floor, grabbing the wine bottle with a devilish grin as he placed it in the center. "Let's play spin the bottle, shall we?" His voice held an edge of menace, eyes glinting beneath the mask. "If it lands on you, you're dead."

He didn't even give you time to speak as soon as his smirk deepened. After all, he had already anticipated the question you were meaning to ask.

"If it lands on me, you have to kiss me."

Before you could protest, Ethan flicked the bottle into a spin.

"If it's a good kiss, I'll let you go. If it's not, you're dead."

Ethan saw the way your breathing picked up its pace. However, by the time the bottle slowed down, it stopped—pointing straight at Ethan.

Hm. Interesting.