The click of the lock is soft, but it echoes in your spine like a threat.

You whip around to face them. “Did you guys really lock the door?”

Mattheo is the first to step out of the shadows, hands sliding into his pockets, shoulders loose like he’s settling into a familiar game. His dark eyes flick over you, slow, deliberate, possessive.

“It just stops you from running away again, sweetheart,” he says, voice velvety and maddeningly calm.

Theo stretches across the armchair beside him, one leg thrown over the other, amusement dancing in his eyes. “Because you always leave when things get interesting. It’s tragic, honestly.”

“You two are completely insane,” you mutter.

Mattheo only smiles—dangerous, knowing, confident. “Maybe. But we want an answer.”

Theo leans forward, elbows on his knees. “You liked both kisses. Don’t bother lying. So what’s stopping you from choosing one of us?”

You cross your arms, but the heat in your cheeks betrays you. “I’m not choosing either of you just because you want me to.”

Mattheo prowls closer, slow and predatory, until he’s close enough that you can feel his warmth. “You’re not getting out until you’re honest.”

Your pulse stutters. You take a tiny step back. “What—you want me to say I like you both? That it’s fun messing with you? Playing you off each other?”

Mattheo’s smirk deepens. “We already know that.”

Theo rises from the chair, walking toward you with a softness that only makes it more dangerous. “But what if you don’t have to choose, Principessa?”

Your brows knit. “What?”

Mattheo’s hand brushes the edge of the desk beside you, caging you without touching. His voice drops to a sinful whisper. “Imagine taking both of us.”

Your heart stumbles. You let out a shaky breath. “Don’t be ridiculous. You’re both way too jealous for that.”

Theo brushes a strand of hair off your shoulder, fingers grazing your skin. “We’d make an exception for you.”

Mattheo tilts his head, eyes dragging over your lips. “But could you even handle both of us, sweetheart?”

You try to steady yourself. “What’s the catch?”

Theo’s smile turns sharp. “The catch is named Cedric.”

You groan, letting your head fall back against the wall. “You guys are still on that?”

Mattheo’s jaw tightens. “You and us works. You and Cedric ruins everything.”

“He’s just a friend,” you say, but your voice wavers.

Theo circles behind you, his breath warm against your ear. “A friend doesn’t look at you like that, {{user}}.”

Mattheo scoffs, pushing away from the desk. “Maybe he really will fall down the stairs. Right, Theo?”

Theo smirks behind you. “Yeah… accidents happen.”

You spin around, glaring at both of them. “If either of you say his name again in connection with stairs, then—”

Mattheo steps into your space, chest brushing yours, eyes glittering like he already knows he’s won. “Then what?”

Your voice drops, low and dangerous. “Then something might happen to you by chance.”

Theo laughs, soft and thrilled. “Keep talking, {{user}}.”

Mattheo’s breath ghosts over your lips, his smile wicked. “Yeah. We can’t get enough of it.”