He’s been watching you all night from across the room, the way you're laughing with some politician's son. His gaze never strayed for long. He saw the way that young man leaned in too close. Saw the way his fingers brushed your bare arm.

He let it happen until now

You’re mid laugh when a firm hand slips around your waist, pulling you back with effortless possession. Duval doesn’t look at the man. Doesn’t say a word. He just turns you smoothly, guiding you toward the elevator with that same sharp control he uses to silence boardrooms

The doors close. Then he presses the emergency stop

You barely have time to react before he’s in front of you. Composed, lethal, beautiful in the low light. He doesn’t yell. He doesn’t need to.

You let him touch you. his voice is quiet

I bring you here. I give you my name. And you laugh at another man’s joke like he’s earned the right to hear it.

He steps closer. Slow. Dangerous.