Julius could hardly say a word. The look in Harrison’s eyes was making him scared.

Harrison did not let go of Julius’s arm. His large fingers gripped Julius’s own tightly, pulling him down the narrow hallway away from the restroom. The air around them felt thick with the suffocating pressure of Harrison’s anger.

"Harrison, stop for a second," Julius said, trying to slow his steps. He had to jog slightly just to keep up with the older man’s long strides. "You are not listening to me. The man I ran into outside, his scent was completely wrong."

Harrison kept walking, his face set in a hard line. He did not look back at Julius. "We are leaving."

"I am serious," Julius insisted, pulling against the tight grip on his arm. "It was not a regular alpha scent. It felt exactly like yours. It was an Enigma."

Harrison let out a short, cold laugh from his throat. He pushed open the exit door that led toward the back stairs of the building. "There are no other Enigmas in this city, Julius. You smell like another man, and you expect me to stand there and discuss it while every wolf in that room is watching us?"

"I am telling you what I smelled," Julius said, his voice rising in frustration as they moved down the quiet concrete stairs. "I am an Alpha. My senses do not just make things up. He was standing right outside the door."

"Then he should have stayed to face me," Harrison growled, his grip tightening just a fraction more. "Instead, you come out covered in his scent, telling me a ghost is walking through the party. We are done talking about this here."

They reached the metal doors of the underground garage. The space was massive, filled with rows of expensive luxury cars and dim overhead lights. The quiet of the garage was a stark difference to the loud music and chatter they had left behind upstairs.

Marcus was already waiting by the side of the black SUV, his posture rigid. The moment he saw the look on Harrison’s face, he straightened his spine even more. He did not say a word, quickly reaching back to open the rear passenger door.

But before Harrison could push Julius into the back seat, Marcus’s eyes darted toward the far side of the parking pillars. His expression changed instantly.

"Boss," Marcus called out, his voice dropping into a low, serious whisper. "Over there. By the grey van. That is the waiter from the ballroom table. I’ve had my eyes on him for some time now and he has been suspicious."

Julius turned his head quickly, following Marcus’s gaze. A few dozen yards away, the tall waiter in the black vest was walking fast, looking over his shoulder every two seconds. He had dropped his serving tray somewhere, and he was clutching a small leather bag tightly against his chest. His movements were frantic, his face pale even under the dim garage lights.

"Grab him," Harrison commanded, his voice cold and flat.

Without a second thought, Marcus rushed forward, his footsteps pounding against the floor as he chased the fleeing waiter.

"Hey! Stop right there!" Marcus shouted.

The waiter heard the shout and panicked. He dropped his bag, the contents spilling across the ground, and turned to run toward the main exit ramp.

But he never made it to the ramp.

From the dark corners of the upper parking level, a heavy black van tore down the lane. Its headlights were completely turned off, making it look like a dark shadow cutting through the dim garage. The engine roared loudly, the sound echoing off the walls.

Julius’s eyes widened. "Marcus, watch out!"

Marcus threw himself sideways, rolling behind a thick pillar just as the van sped past him. The car did not slow down. It didn’t swerve. It steered directly toward the running waiter.

The waiter turned his head at the sound of the screeching tires, his eyes stretching wide with pure terror. He tried to dive out of the way, but the vehicle was moving too fast.

Bang.

The heavy front bumper struck the man with incredible force. The impact was loud and sickening, the sound bouncing off the walls of the enclosed garage. The waiter’s body was thrown over the hood before crashing heavily onto the ground several yards away. The van sped up, its tires spinning and smoking against the floor as it disappeared into the night.

Silence returned to the garage, heavy and suffocating.

Marcus recovered quickly, running over to the waiter’s body. He knelt down, pressing two fingers firmly against the man’s neck. After a few seconds, Marcus looked back at Harrison and shook his head slowly.

"He is dead, boss," Marcus reported, his voice tight. "The hit killed him instantly. They cleaned him up before we could get a single word out of him."

Julius stood frozen by the side of the SUV, his breath coming in short, shallow gasps. His mind was racing. He looked away from the dead waiter and began searching the shadows of the garage. He looked behind the pillars, near the distant stairwells, and toward the main entrance.

He was looking for the polite gentleman from the corridor. He was looking for that dark, heavy scent that had made his skin flush. But there was nothing.

Did I really smell it? Julius thought, his fingers starting to tremble slightly. Was I just so angry about the woman touching Harrison that my mind played tricks on me? The thought made him feel sick to his stomach.

Harrison walked over to Marcus, his face completely expressionless as he looked down at the dead witness. His jaw was clenched so tightly the muscles were jumping under his skin.

"Clean this area," Harrison ordered Marcus softly, though the quietness of his voice made it sound even more terrifying. "Get the cameras from the security room. I want to know who owns that van within the hour."

"Yes, sir," Marcus said, immediately pulling out his phone to make the necessary calls.

Harrison turned around and walked back to the SUV. He did not say a word to Julius. He simply grabbed Julius by the waist, lifted him slightly, and guided him firmly into the back seat of the car. Harrison climbed in right behind him, slamming the door shut.

The lock clicked automatically, sealing them inside the dark, quiet interior. Harrison sat back against the leather seat, staring straight ahead into the dark windshield.

He did not look at Julius, and he did not touch him, but the raw, silent anger radiating from his body was like a ticking time bomb, waiting for the right moment to explode.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​