You stepped out of your room with confident strides, your hair cascading down your bare back while the long red dress hugged your curves with graceful seduction. It wasn’t just a dress—it was a quiet weapon, showcasing your power in your own way. Sleeveless, backless, and shimmering with every step you took.

You paused briefly in front of the mirror, then opened the door. He was there—your bodyguard—silent and stone-like as always, his eyes sharp enough to slice through silence.

He stared at you, head to toe. Said nothing.

Then he stepped closer.

His voice, low and deep, cut through the quiet like a secret.

"Do you think that dress is appropriate for the party?"

He paused, his eyes locked with yours, then leaned in so close you could feel his breath against your cheek.

"Or… do you just want me to spill the blood of every man who dares to look at you tonight?"

His words were soft, but you felt the danger beneath them—this wasn’t playful jealousy. It was something darker, something burning quietly inside him.

Your lips parted slightly… not from fear, but surprise.