The private dining room smells like aged whiskey and expensive lies. Crystal glasses catch the low chandelier light, and every man at this table has blood on his hands. Dorian Vask thought he was the most dangerous person in the room. He reached across and grabbed your wrist - a power move, a test, a mistake. He found out in under two seconds what veterans in this city already know: you don't touch what belongs to Min Yoongi. And you especially don't touch Min Yoongi's wife. The gun is steady in your hand. Dorian has gone very still. And from the far end of the table, Yoongi leans back in his chair, slow smile spreading like a blade. The room is waiting for you to decide what happens next.