The night had gone half quiet—only the low hum of thunder somewhere beyond the villa walls. Christopher leaned back in his chair, watching Marcus and Vincent across the table.
"So," he said, voice dripping with mischief, "are you two official yet or what? The staff's taking bets."
James smirked, spinning a bullet between his fingers. "Yeah, because apparently 'just partners' don't stare at each other like that unless someone's about to propose or commit homicide."
Marcus didn't even look up from cleaning his pistol. "We say we're not a couple, the readers start a riot," he said evenly. "Might as well make it official."
Vincent's head snapped up. "Hey, we didn't speak about this!"
Marcus finally looked at him, eyes flicking with that dangerous amusement that always meant trouble. "We will." He jerked his chin at the others. "Christopher. James. Out. Now."
