His Enemy, His Obsession
RONAN “RON” HWAN POV
“Put your tongue back in your mouth, Lukeson. You’re catching flies,” Zli smirks, though the red wine shade of his lips tells me he’s enjoying the attention.
I let out a low whistle, leaning against the doorframe of our Amalfi villa. He has just emerged from the master suite, and the transformation is staggering. He’s wearing a tailored, charcoal-grey suit—no tie, top buttons undone—that clings to his frame in all the right places. It highlights the lean muscle of his shoulders and the narrowness of his waist, a silhouette that screams both elegance and a hidden, lethal capability. He looks less like a forensic accountant and more like the man who could buy and sell the
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