A tense silence hung in the air, thick and suffocating.
The dim glow of the VIP lounge illuminated the room, but the mood was already destroyed.
Samir and the rest exchanged glances, their expressions a mixture of awe and disbelief. The fight had ended in mere moments, but its impact lingered. The precision of Rowan's movements, the sheer force behind his strikes, and the cold efficiency with which he handled the gang members—none of it matched the man they thought he was.
Mila, standing closest to Samir, swallowed hard. Her hands were still trembling slightly from the adrenaline, but her mind was elsewhere. She had worked alongside Rowan for over six months, yet tonight, he had felt like an entirely different person.
The quiet, somewhat aloof coworker she had known had vanished, replaced by someone... dangerous.
And he seemed so undeniably attractive.
A blush crept up her cheeks before she could stop it. That sharp focus in his eyes, the effortless way he had moved, the way he had taken control of the situation without hesitation—it stirred something inside her she hadn't expected.
But while Mila was lost in her thoughts, there was one person whose mind worked in an entirely different direction.
Unlike the others, who marveled at Rowan's skills, Selene saw something else—something that didn't sit right with her.
"Wait," She said, stepping forward, her voice cutting through the silence like a blade.
Everyone turned to her in confusion, but she ignored them. Instead, she fixed her sharp gaze on Rowan, her blue eyes narrowed as if trying to peer through the very essence of his being.
"You," She muttered, stepping even closer until there was barely any space left between them. Her chest almost brushed against him, yet she showed no sign of discomfort. "Who are you, really?"
Rowan tilted his head slightly, his expression unreadable.
"What do you mean?" He asked, his voice calm, almost amused.
Selene scoffed.
"Don't play dumb with me," She said. "I'm not some clueless girl who'll fall for your little act. You expect me to believe this was all some happy coincidence?"
Mila frowned. "Selene, what are you talking about?"
Selene ignored her. Her gaze never wavered from Rowan, her eyes sharp and unyielding.
"You played the hero tonight, but it's too convenient. Too perfect. The way you handled those thugs? That wasn't self-defense—it was execution. Every move, every strike... you were in complete control." She folded her arms. "People don't just fight like that unless they've been trained. And not just in some self-defense class either. No normal office worker fights like you."
The others stiffened at her words. The suspicion in her tone sent a ripple of unease through the group.
Rowan remained silent, his expression unreadable.
"Isn't this too much of a coincidence," Selene continued, pressing forward. "Loraine gets into trouble, three guys show up out of nowhere and harass her... then they brought a whole gang with them. And, of course, you just happen to be here to save us?"
She narrowed her eyes. "Tell me, Rowan, how much of this did you plan?"
Her accusation sent shockwaves through the group.
Even Rowan found himself momentarily taken aback. He had expected questions—shock, maybe even admiration—but not this level of scrutiny.
For a brief moment, he considered answering, but then he realized something—anything he said would only be seen as an excuse.
So he remained silent.
His lack of response only fueled Selene's suspicion.
"See?" She said, turning to the others. "He's not even denying it."
"Selene, stop it!" Loraine suddenly interjected, stepping between them. She looked distressed, her eyes pleading. "This isn't fair! You're making it sound like Rowan set this whole thing up! Do you even hear yourself?"
Selene clenched her jaw. "Loraine, you're too naive. Think about it—how did you even end up in this mess? And yet somehow, Rowan is the one who swoops in to save the day?"
Loraine looked torn, glancing between Rowan and her sister.
Mila hesitated before stepping forward. "Selene, I get that you're being cautious, but this is too much. He saved you."
"Did he?" Selene shot back. "Or did he just make it look that way?"
Rowan exhaled softly and finally spoke.
"You're overthinking this," He said, his voice devoid of emotion.
Selene smirked. "Am I? Then tell me, Rowan—where did you learn to fight like that?"
Rowan met her gaze, unblinking. "Does it matter?"
Selene's eyes flashed. "It does to me."
Their silent battle stretched on, neither willing to back down.
Then, unexpectedly, Rowan chuckled. It was low, almost amused.
"You really are sharp," He admitted. "Most people wouldn't think twice about something like this. But you? You don't trust coincidences."
Selene crossed her arms. "You're damn right I don't."
Rowan sighed. "Alright. Let's say you're right. Let's say I have a past I'm not talking about. Does that change anything? Did I not just save you?"
Selene hesitated for the first time, but only for a moment.
"You tell me," She challenged. "Are you someone we should be afraid of?"
Rowan gave her a long, unreadable look before responding.
"Fear is a matter of perspective," He said. "But no—I'm not your enemy."
Selene studied him for a long moment, then scoffed and stepped back. "We'll see about that."
With that, the tension seemed to ease, but the air remained charged. No one spoke for a long while.
Finally, Samir cleared his throat.
"Well... that was intense," He muttered.
Mila sighed. "More like exhausting."
As the tension finally eased, Selene took a deliberate step back, her sharp gaze still fixed on Rowan.
It wasn't just suspicion in her eyes—it was calculation.
He could practically hear the gears turning in her mind. She wasn't done with him, and he knew it.
Samir, who had been quiet for most of the heated exchange, let out a low whistle before stepping up beside Rowan. With a casual grin, he clapped him on the shoulder, leaning in slightly.
"You know," Samir murmured, "Selene's got a point. You are kinda suspicious."
His grip tightened for a second before he chuckled. "But, man, that was some next-level badassery."
Rowan shook his head, brushing off Samir's hand as he adjusted his slightly wrinkled bartender uniform.
"Glad my life-threatening brawl was entertaining for you," He muttered dryly.
Samir only smirked. "I mean, it's not every day I see a bartender take down an entire gang single-handedly."
"You need to get out more," Rowan shot back.
Before Samir could reply, Loraine let out a deep breath.
"I think we've had enough excitement for one night," She said, rubbing her temple. "We should go before anything else happens."
Selene crossed her arms. "Not before we settle things with Moreau."
The others murmured in agreement, and soon, they made their way downstairs where the club's owner, Silas Moreau, waited.
Silas Moreau stood near the bar, his usual composed demeanor just barely hiding the irritation flickering beneath the surface.
"Miss Selene," He greeted smoothly, offering a tight smile. "I trust you are unharmed?"
Selene didn't bother with pleasantries. "Your club's security is laughable."
Silas's expression didn't waver, but Rowan caught the brief clench of his jaw.
"I sincerely apologize for the incident," He said carefully. "It is not a common occurrence here."
Selene raised a skeptical brow. "It shouldn't be an occurrence at all."
Silas exhaled. "I take full responsibility and will personally ensure it never happens again. That being said, I assume this… unfortunate event will not affect our business discussions?"
Selene tilted her head slightly, considering him. "I'll still discuss the investment with my mother, but your club needs to prove it's worth the risk."
A flicker of unease crossed Moreau's face at the mention of Lady Sinclair. He quickly masked it with a tight nod. "Understood. You have my word."
Selene studied him a second longer before turning on her heel. "We're leaving."
As the others followed, she cast one last glance at Rowan—a silent warning.
I'm watching you.
Rowan smirked. Noted.
----
Outside, the cool night air wrapped around them, a welcome contrast to the club's heated atmosphere. The street had quieted, save for a few distant voices and the occasional car passing by.
Loraine let out a tired sigh. "I need a drink after all that. A calm one this time."
Samir laughed. "Agreed. No more surprise fight clubs tonight."
Rowan rolled his shoulders, feeling the tension still lingering in his muscles. He had hoped for an uneventful night—clearly, that had been wishful thinking.
Just as he was about to take a breath, a familiar voice purred from behind him.
"You've been hiding things from me, Rowan," Mila said, stepping closer.
Rowan turned to see his coworker whose dark eyes gleamed with something between amusement and curiosity.
"What exactly did I hide?" Rowan asked, playing along.
Mila crossed her arms, tilting her head. "Oh, you know. The whole mysterious fighter with a dangerous past thing."
She tapped a finger against his chest. "The 'I can take down an entire gang without breaking a sweat' thing. The brooding hero act."
Rowan sighed. "Didn't think it was relevant."
Mila smirked. "Not relevant? You're kidding, right?"
She stepped just a little closer, her voice lowering. "Now I have to start over."
"Start over?"
Mila's eyes glinted with mischief. "Getting to know you, obviously. But this time, from much closer."
Rowan huffed a small chuckle. "That sounds more like a threat than a promise."
Mila grinned. "Maybe it's both."