Mikhail’s green eyes appraised {{user}} with amused detachment, taking in how she’d inserted herself into his business dinner without so much as a hint of permission.

Enzo surfaced in his thoughts, the man he loved, the only one who commanded his loyalty. That alone made her pursuit meaningless. Yet she persisted.

The reason? Power. Influence. Or the sheer arrogance of thinking she could bend him. He had no patience for delusions.

Leaning closer, he moved her hand from his arm with deliberate force.

“Do you want me to place a bullet in the heart you claim beats for me, {{user}}?” he asked in a low whisper, meant only for her and unheard by the rest of the table.