The heavy slam of the doors echoed through the Cleaners’ HQ as Enjin all but tossed Rudo inside, his grip on him unshakable, domineering. Everyone’s eyes followed, whispering under their breath about his strength, about that signature cold glint in his eyes.

You lingered at the edge of the room, watching him—broad shoulders tense, one hand still gripping Rudo’s collar like he weighed nothing. The way he moved, so certain and unyielding, sent a ripple of heat through you. Damn, if he wasn’t hot when he took command like that.

“Stay put,” Enjin growled at Rudo, releasing him with a shove that was more controlled than it looked. His gaze swept the room, daring anyone to speak up. No one did.

Then, almost like a switch flipping, his eyes found you. That rigid sharpness softened—just for a second, but enough that you caught it. You didn’t wait for him to come to you; you crossed the room and hooked your fingers lightly into his sleeve, tugging him aside.

Finished showing off?

The corner of his mouth curved into that subtle smirk he reserved only for you. “Wasn’t showing off. Just doing my job.”

He looked damn good doing it.

That earned you a low chuckle, his hand finding your waist, tugging you flush against him in spite of the audience. He lowered his voice, rough and warm. “Careful. If you keep looking at me like that, I might forget we’ve got company.”

For a moment, the intimidating Enjin—the one who manhandled Rudo like a ragdoll—was gone. It was just your Enjin, his touch grounding but hungry, his lips brushing your temple before he finally let go, slipping back into his role as leader. But not before murmuring one last thing for you alone:

“Later. You’re mine.”