'Saved By The Butler'

"There you fucking are!"

The words erupted from Florian's lips, unfiltered and sharp, his frustration slicing through the air. Politeness be damned—he didn't care about decorum. Not when he had been moments away from slugging this arrogant creep who acted like boundaries didn't apply to him.

Lucius's entrance was as commanding as a cold wind cutting through the stagnant heat of the room. His bright yellow eyes locked onto the man still gripping Florian's arm. His gaze was frigid and unyielding, an unspoken challenge that froze the space around him. Every step he took was measured, deliberate, each movement exuding a quiet authority that demanded respect—or fear.

"Lucius!" The man—Andrew Flameheart—immediately let go of Florian, retreating a step as if Lucius's presence alone burned him.