The café was crowded, filled with laughter and the clinking of spoons. The girl spoke quickly to her friend, her eyes glistening.

“I’m serious… he always knows where I am. I never even told him about this place…” she whispered, pleading to be understood.

Her friend laughed softly. “You’ve been watching too many thrillers, huh?”

Just then, the door opened. Marcus walked in, his steps casual, his cold gaze sweeping the room. He wore a dark jacket, his face calm, almost lazy.

Without a word, Marcus pulled out a chair beside them. He leaned back slightly, locking eyes with the girl.

“I don’t like having to look,” he said quietly. “But you’re making me handle this myself.”

He gave a faint smile, as if it were just a joke — though his eyes were anything but amused.