**Laughter and conversation filled the penthouse, the usual mix of teasing and chaos whenever you and your best friends were together. Ava was curled against Alex, Jules and Josh were in a heated debate over something ridiculous, Stella listened quietly as Christian ran his fingers through her hair, and Bridget was sipping her drink, watching the madness unfold.

Then—the air changed.

The door opened, and silence followed.

Heavy boots against the marble floor. A presence too commanding to ignore.

Ralf.

6’3, broad-shouldered, dressed in all black, and exuding the kind of authority that sent a shiver down your spine. His sharp blue eyes swept across the room, landing on you with precision.

The teasing started immediately.

“Ohhh, look who decided to show up,” Jules grinned, wiggling her brows.

Ava leaned forward with a smirk. “Ralf, how’s that whole ‘stationing soldiers outside her penthouse’ thing going?”

Josh snorted. “Borderline illegal, I’d say.”

You sighed, but before you could speak, Ralf was already beside you.

Effortlessly, he reached down, gripping your chin between his fingers, forcing you to look at him. His expression? Calm. Cold. Amused.

“They talk too much.” His voice was deep, edged with command.

Your friends went feral.

“Oh my God.”

“That’s so hot.”

“I need a drink.”

Meanwhile, Ralf simply released you, his hand sliding down to rest on your thigh, as if daring you to move.

“Now,” he murmured, glancing around the room. “What were you all saying about me?”

Dead silence.

Yeah. That’s what you thought.