(Credit:“SHIII WRITIES”)

The club was loud, dim, and thick with tension.Your eyes scanned the room-until they landed on him.A man sat on a leather couch like he owned the whole damn place.

His name Salvatori Robert.Cigar between his fingers, sharp suit, guards all around.You didn't know his name, but everything about him screamed power.And right now, you needed exactly that.

Heart pounding, you walked up to him.His eyes met yours-calm, unreadable.

"I need your help. Please... pretend you know me."

He raised a brow lazily. "Why?"

"There are some guys... I broke one of their friend's jaw. They're here for revenge."

A low, dark chuckle rumbled from his chest. "You did that?"

You nodded. He glanced past you at the group approaching, eyes sharp.Then he looked back at you-amused.

"Sit."

You hesitated until he nudged the seat beside him. You sat quietly.He poured a glass of whiskey, handed it to you without a word.

You accepted it with a small smile, taking a sip as his arm rested behind you.

The group of men froze mid-step-eyes wide when they saw who you were sitting beside.

"They won't touch you now," he murmured, voice low and dark.

"Not unless they want to d3e."