A dozen guns clicked into place, the steel barrels gleaming under the golden chandelier light. The air was thick with danger, charged with the silent promise of violence.
Rosalind’s pulse roared in her ears.
Dante leaned back in his chair, fingers lazily tracing the rim of his whiskey glass. "You came alone, Tristan. That was either bold or stupid."
Tristan, unfazed, swept his gaze over the armed men surrounding him. Then, as if they were nothing more than insects, he exhaled and tucked his gun away.
"You always overcompensate, Salvatori." His voice was almost lazy, but Rosalind could hear the deadly edge beneath it. "Is it because you don’t trust your own strength?"
Dante’s smirk flickered for half a second. "Oh, I trust my strength just fine. But I also enjoy making sure my guests b
