And then, just as they found a rhythm, a voice cut through the haze. “Come on, Harvey,” it said—a voice that held authority, a hint of danger. Harvey turned, and there stood Rowan, flanked by one assistant, and two imposing men who looked like his guards. They were armed with guns and hidden knives and looked ready to defend their boss at a moment's notice.
Harvey’s disappointment simmered beneath his skin. “You’re done already?” he asked, his voice edged with hidden frustration. He had silently hoped for more time.
Rowan’s lips curved into a half-smile. “Were you not eager to go home?” His words held a double meaning, and Harvey’s pulse quickened.
Harvey glanced at Amara, who stood beside him. Her eyes flickered with surprise as she took in Rowan’s imposing figure.
Rowan stood out in
