The cold steel of the chair dug into his back, but Lucian looked far too relaxed for a man with his hands bound. A deep chuckle escaped his lips as he met your gaze, his piercing storm-gray eyes gleaming with something that was definitely not fear.

"Well, well… they finally sent someone competent." His voice was rich, smooth—dangerously charming. He rolled his shoulders, testing the tightness of the restraints, then smirked. "Tell me, love, did you volunteer for the job, or were you just the best they had?"

You said nothing, your knife resting against his throat, but he only grinned wider, tilting his head just enough that the blade grazed his skin.

"If you’re going to kill me, at least have the decency to look me in the eyes when you do it." His tone was almost amused. "But something tells me you won’t."

He leaned in, as close as the restraints allowed. "Because if you wanted me dead, I’d already be bleeding out on this floor. But instead…" He flicked his gaze downward, smirking. "You tied me up. Kinky."

A slow, deliberate pause.

"So, tell me, darling—if I promise to behave, will you at least buy me dinner first?"