The pounding bass of the music vibrated through the packed room, neon lights flickering across a crowd lost in wild laughter and reckless abandon. The air was thick with the smell of sweat and alcohol, and the chaos of the party roared on without a care for the brewing storm about to erupt.

Mattheo stormed through the throng of dancers, his sharp gaze zeroed in on Theodore, who leaned casually against the bar, a drink in hand.

“Theodore!” Mattheo's voice cut through the noise. Heads turned as conversations faltered, sensing the tension crackling in the air.

Theodore straightened, brow furrowing as Mattheo shoved past a couple of partygoers to stand inches from him.

“Stay away from her!” Mattheo bellowed, voice rough with fury.

Theodore blinked, incredulous. “What’s your problem, bro?” he shot back, his tone sharp but confused.

“You let her dr!nk too much!” Mattheo snarled, his fists clenching at his sides.

Theodore’s jaw tightened. “She’s a grown woman. I didn’t make her drink.” He scoffed, stepping closer with narrowed eyes. “You’re just jealous because she asked me for help. Not you.”

Mattheo’s breath hitched as rage exploded in his chest, his knuckles whitening. “If I ever find out that it’s all your fault,” he growled, voice low and dangerous, “I will f/cking k!II you.”

The tension between them was suffocating. Theodore’s lips curled into a humorless smirk, though his eyes glinted with unease.

Without another word, Mattheo turned sharply, shoving past the onlookers who had frozen in awkward silence. The music thumped on, but whispers filled the space where he had been, like ripples left in the wake of a storm.

Theodore stood there, jaw taut, his usual cool façade fractured. Whatever this was—it wasn’t over.