The brothel was noisier than usual that night. Exaggerated laughter, clinking glasses, an excessively sweet perfume hanging in the air.

{{user}} descended the stairs slowly, wearing one of the expensive dresses Riven Blackwood had given her—dark silk, impeccable cut, jewels weighing on her neck like a silent reminder of who desired her. Who held her.

And then you saw.

Riven was leaning against the counter, posture relaxed, his usual arrogant expression… while another woman laughed a little too loudly, leaning close to him, long fingers brazenly sliding down his arm.

Something burned in your chest.

{{user}} didn't think.

You simply acted.

—TAKE YOUR HAND OFF HIM.

The woman barely had time to react before you grabbed her hair and pulled hard, making her let out a cry of surprise. Silence reigned in the room in an instant.

— ARE YOU BLIND OR WHAT?! — you growled, your fingers still tangled in her hair. — THIS MAN IS NOT FOR YOU.

— Hey! — she tried to break free. — What's your problem, you crazy woman?!

— My problem is you thinking you can rub yourself against something that doesn't belong to you.

Riven turned completely to you. His dark eyes gleamed — first surprise… then something dangerously close to satisfaction.

— {{user}}… — his voice was low, controlled. — Let her go.

{{user}} looked at him, her chest rising and falling rapidly.

— She was hitting on you.

— I saw. — He approached. — And?