The building didn't look impressive from the outside.
Just another gray stone structure in the center of the city-quiet, almost forgettable.
But the moment we stepped inside, I understood what it really was.
Power lived here.
Men in dark suits stood along the walls, their eyes sharp and watchful. No one spoke as Marco and I walked past them while their gazes followed us, curious… calculating.
Marco's grip on my hand was steady.
"You're nervous," he murmured quietly.
"Of course I am," I whispered back. "You're about to introduce me to a room full of criminals."
He gave a faint smile.
"Technically, they're businessmen."
"Right."
We stopped in front of two massive wooden doors.
Two guards opened them immediately.
Inside was a long conference room with a polished black table stretching from one end to the other. Around it sat eight men and one woman, each with the same look in their eyes.
Predators.
The conversation inside the room stopped the moment we entered.
Every head turned and every gaze fell directly on me.
Marco walked forward like he owned the world, which in this room, he probably did.
"Good morning," he said calmly.
One of the men leaned back in his chair, studying me openly.
This man looked older than the others, his silver hair neatly combed and his expression full of quiet arrogance.
"Marco," he said slowly, "you're late."
"Am I?" Marco replied casually.
The man's eyes slid toward me.
"And you've brought company."
Marco stopped at the head of the table.
"Yes."
Silence settled across the room like a heavy fog.
The woman sitting near the middle tilted her head slightly.
She looked elegant, dangerous in a different way than the others.
"And who exactly is she?" she asked.
Marco didn't hesitate.
"My fiancée."
The reaction was immediate.
Chairs shifted.
Murmurs spread around the table.
Shock.
Disbelief.
Suspicion.
The silver-haired man frowned.
"Your fiancée?"
Marco nodded once.
"Yes."
He gently pulled me forward so I stood beside him.
"This is Aisha."
Every eye in the room studied me more intensely now.
The woman smirked slightly.
"How interesting."
Another man spoke up, younger than the others but clearly just as powerful.
"And when exactly did this engagement happen?"
Marco's voice remained calm.
"Recently."
"That's vague."
"That's intentional."
The silver-haired man leaned forward, resting his hands on the table.
"Marco," he said slowly, "you expect us to believe you suddenly decided to get engaged… without informing the council?"
Marco's gaze hardened slightly.
"I wasn't aware I needed permission to marry."
The room fell quiet again.
Power struggled silently across the table.
Then the woman chuckled.
"Oh, I like her already," she said, nodding toward me. "She walked into a room full of wolves and didn't run."
"I didn't have time," I muttered.
A few people actually laughed.
Marco glanced at me briefly, almost amused.
But the silver-haired man wasn't smiling.
"This changes things," he said carefully.
"Does it?" Marco replied.
"Yes."
The man's eyes narrowed.
"Because enemies of yours might see this woman as a weakness."
Marco's voice turned cold.
"Anyone who touches her will regret it."
The threat hung heavily in the air.
Then another voice spoke.
Quiet.
Smooth.
Dangerous, extremely dangerous.
"I wonder if that's true."
Everyone turned toward the speaker.
A tall man sat near the end of the table. His dark hair was perfectly styled, his suit expensive with his smile thin and sharp.
Something about him immediately made my skin crawl.
Marco's posture stiffened slightly.
"Adrian," he said.
So that was his name.
Adrian leaned back comfortably.
"You're asking us to believe this woman is suddenly part of your life," he said. "Forgive me if I find the timing… suspicious."
Marco didn't blink.
"You're free to have your opinions."
"Oh, I do."
Adrian's eyes slid toward me.
Slow.
Measuring.
"You don't look like someone who belongs in our world."
"I didn't think I did either," I replied.
A few eyebrows lifted at my answer.
Adrian smiled wider.
"Brave."
Marco stepped slightly closer to me.
A subtle protective move.
Adrian noticed.
"So protective already," he mused.
Marco's voice lowered.
"Do you have a problem with my engagement?"
Adrian tilted his head.
"No problem."
He paused.
"But I do have questions."
The tension in the room tightened.
Marco crossed his arms.
"Ask them."
Adrian's gaze never left me.
"Where did you meet her?"
Marco answered smoothly.
"Through mutual connections."
"And you trust her?"
"Yes."
"Completely?"
"Yes."
Adrian tapped his fingers slowly against the table.
"Interesting."
The silver-haired man spoke again.
"Marco, you must understand our concern."
"I do."
"Your enemies are already growing bolder."
Marco's expression darkened.
"I'm aware."
"Then bringing an outsider into this circle is risky."
Marco's voice became firm.
"She's not an outsider anymore."
His hand tightened slightly around mine.
"She's family."
Those words echoed across the room.
Family.
In a place like this, that word meant protection… and war.
Adrian's smile faded slightly.
But his eyes still held that strange, calculating look.
Finally, the silver-haired man leaned back in his chair.
"Very well," he said.
"If you claim this woman as yours, the council will respect it."
Relief quietly spread through the room.
But Adrian spoke again.
"Of course…"
Everyone looked at him.
He smiled slowly.
"There's just one small problem."
Marco's eyes narrowed.
"What problem?".
Adrian rested his elbows on the table.
"The person who attacked you last night," he said calmly.
"I happen to know they're planning something much bigger."
The room froze.
Marco's voice turned dangerously quiet.
"How do you know that?"
Adrian's smile sharpened.
"Because," he said softly,
"I was invited to join them."
The air in the room turned deadly cold.
And suddenly, every person at the table realized something terrifying.
The traitor…
Might be sitting right in front of them.