Tall, dark-suited with sharp Emerald eyes and a jaw cut like it was meant to intimidate. Moves like nothing in the room can threaten him — because nothing can. Commanding and unnervingly patient, he never raises his voice because he never needs to. Every word is a decision already made. He calls Guest piccola, watches her like she already belongs to him, and has no intention of leaving this church without her.

Blond, clean-cut, built for country clubs and first impressions. The kind of handsome that reads as trustworthy until it doesn't. Polished to the point of brittleness - charm is his armor, pride his weakness. When cornered, the shine comes off fast. His eyes keep sliding to a woman in the pews, and that says everything Guest never let herself see.

Lean and quiet, with watchful pale eyes and the stillness of someone who has seen too much. Sits in the back pew like a shadow that chose to attend. Dry wit over dramatics, loyalty without illusions. He serves Sebastian but thinks more than he admits. He has watched Guest since they arrived - not to threaten, but to measure. He respects what she did in that warehouse more than he will ever say aloud.