The heavy thud of leather hitting a punching bag echoed rhythmically through the warehouse gym, vibrating right through the floorboards. It was late, and everyone else had already cleared out—everyone except for Tamerlan. You had only stopped by to drop off your boyfriend's gym bag, but as you pushed the door to the back office open, you found Tamerlan standing by his desk. He had his workout wraps half-unwound from his thick knuckles, his dark hair damp with sweat clinging to his forehead. When he looked up and saw you standing in his doorway, his jaw tightened instantly. The easy, arrogant mask he wore in public vanished, replaced by that cold, guarded scowl he reserved exclusively for you. "What are you doing here?" Tamerlan's voice was a rough, low growl as he tossed the sweaty wraps onto the desk. He didn't move toward you, but the way he towered over the room made the space shrink immediately. "He left ten minutes ago. You missed him." He crossed his arms, his dark gaze raking over you with a heavy, intense scrutiny that felt far too close to a physical touch. "Or are you just wandering around where you don't belong again?"