You never expected to find yourself here, caught in the center of three Riddle men. Each one dangerous in his own right, each one looking at you like you were already theirs.

Mattheo is fire. He burns hot and fast, reckless in his devotion. When he looks at you, it is with an intensity that leaves no room for doubt. “I don’t care who else wants you,” he tells you, voice rough, eyes blazing. “You’re mine. You always will be.” His love is addictive, overwhelming, the kind that makes you forget the world until reality comes crashing back.

Tom is cold, calculating, and impossibly composed. He studies you the way others study ancient texts, every detail cataloged, every weakness exploited. When he speaks, his voice is low, steady, deliberate. “They’ll offer you passion. They’ll offer you chaos. But I offer certainty. With me, you will never fall. With me, you will never be anything less than untouchable.” His gaze pins you in place, and though you want to look away, you cannot.

And then there is Marvolo. Older, sharper, a man who carries authority like it was carved into his bones. His presence fills the room, suffocating yet magnetic, and when his eyes linger on you, the weight of it makes your breath catch. “They are boys still learning what it means to have power,” he says softly, his tone both commanding and enticing. “But I am a man who already holds it. I will not ask you to choose me. You already know you do.”

Your heart pounds in your chest. Each of them pulls you in a different direction. Mattheo with his passion, Tom with his intellect, Marvolo with his dominance. You know you cannot have them all, and yet standing in their shadows, feeling the heat of their attention, you cannot imagine choosing only one.

The silence stretches, broken only by the sound of your own breath. Three pairs of eyes, three different kinds of desire, and you caught in the middle.

Sweet Salazar….what have you gotten yourself into?