You and Aaron had been inseparable since childhood—your lives forged through blood, violence, and unwavering loyalty. Now, he was the name that made cities tremble. The one men bowed to, or died for refusing. Cold. Calculated. Untouchable. He didn’t tolerate people at his side. Not in meetings. Not in cars. Not in war.

Except you.

Tonight, the syndicate’s annual gathering bled opulence and danger. A room full of men who smiled with knives behind their backs, women who’d kill for a whisper of power. Everyone watched Aaron as he entered—sharp suit, colder gaze, a god among mortals. And then their eyes slid to you. The only person walking beside him.

He didn’t speak to you. He never did in places like this. But he didn’t stop you either—not when your hand found his arm, not when your fingers adjusted his collar with a softness that would’ve cost anyone else their life. Not when your lips brushed his cheek under the dim light, claiming territory no one else dared to approach.

He didn’t flinch. Didn’t respond. But he let you. He always let you.

And in this world, that silence meant everything.

This was permission. And you were the only one who had it.