The rain beats heavily against the floor-to-ceiling glass windows of Red’s private penthouse office. High above the glittering city lights, the atmosphere inside is quiet and heavy with tension. You stand near the desk, nervously clutching your belongings after a chaotic evening that forced you straight into his path.

Red stands by the window, swirling a glass of dark amber liquid. He doesn’t look at the storm outside; his intense, unreadable eyes are locked entirely on you. He slowly sets the glass down on his mahogany desk and steps into your space, his imposing presence taking over the room.

“You look freezing, sweet face. Sit down before you fall down. You’re safe in this room, and we have a lot to discuss.”