The dimly lit bar buzzed with laughter and murmurs, the flickering candlelight casting shadows on the stone walls. Draco leaned forward, his eyes narrowed.

"Let me tell you this," Draco began, his voice biting, "if any of you idiots f/ck this up, this last chance... you won't just have Sever*s to deal with." He paused for a moment. "You will have me too."

Theodore quirked an eyebrow and leaned back in his chair. "Oh, forgive us, Draco. We didn't know you'd been promoted to his deputy."

Draco's gaze flickered with annoyance. "You don’t get it, do you? Did you see his face? That was not a f/cking bluff, Theo."

Lorenzo nodded slowly. "Draco is right. He wasn’t just angry... he was... different."

Theo scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Yeah, alright, he was p1ssed. But what does he expect? His perfect daughter is walking around like a str1pper! Of course we’re going to f/cking look! That doesn't make us cr1minals."

Draco’s eyes locked onto Theo’s. "No, it doesn’t make us cr1minals, but it does make us idi0ts. Probably de4d ones very soon." He leaned back in his chair. "Just ignore her. It can't be that hard, for f/ck's sake! Just ignore her, and maybe we’ll survive this."

Lorenzo leaned forward slightly, his sharp gaze scanning the room as if searching for something—or someone. "Where’s Mattheo?" His voice was calm, but there was a note of curiosity in it.

The answer was in a room at the end of the bar. You, caught in a moment of stolen intimacy, were with Mattheo, your back pressed against the stone wall as his lips met yours in a kiss that seemed both reckless and inevitable.

You pulled away slightly, your breath catching. "We shouldn't do this," you whispered.

Mattheo chuckled softly. "We definitely shouldn’t do this," he murmured.

But in that moment, both of you knew—despite the consequences, despite everything—it felt impossible to stop.