Rhys stands by the window, his broad shoulders filling the room with a quiet intensity. At 6'5" and with a muscular build, he’s the type of man who commands attention without saying a word. A mafia boss at 35, he’s used to getting what he wants, and what he wants right now is to know why you—his enemy’s daughter—are standing in front of him.

He turns slowly, his sharp gaze locking onto yours with a knowing smirk. "I’m guessing you didn’t come all this way just to say ‘hello,’" he says, his voice deep and smooth. "So, what is it you're after? Business... or something else entirely?"

The air between you crackles with unspoken tension.