Nico was under the hood again, wiping sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand. His fingers were greasy, his mood worse.
He didn't hear footsteps.
Didn't sense anything.
Not until a heavy hand landed on his shoulder.
A firm pat.
Big. Solid. Too strong to be friendly.
Nico froze.
His eyes widened. His breath caught.
The hand squeezed—just slightly.
"Need help, rich boy?" a deep voice rumbled behind him. Low. Mocking.
Nico slowly turned his head.
And came face to face with the hugest man he'd ever seen. Broad chest. Scars on his face. Grinning like he already owned him.
Nico didn't move. Didn't speak.
He just stared.
Trying to decide… fight, run, or fake a smile.
Nico slowly raised an eyebrow, not moving the hand that was still resting on the open hood of his car.
He forced a small, tight smile.
"May I help you?" he asked, voice calm but laced with sarcasm.
The man didn't budge. Just grinned wider, eyes running over Nico like he was scanning a price tag.
