Claude Lockheart barely had time to register the shift in the air before it happened.
One second, Mio was glaring at him across the kitchen, her eyes narrowed in frustration at his endless teasing. The next—she was right in front of him, her hand flat against his bare chest, the touch sharp, sudden, and full of irritation.
Claude froze. The warmth of her palm seared against his skin, and though the gesture wasn't gentle, it wasn't cruel either—it was something in between. A mix of anger and something far more complicated.
"Mio," he said quietly, the faintest hint of laughter still lacing his tone, "are you… mad again?"
Her eyes snapped up to meet his, fierce and burning. "What do you think?"
Claude had faced business rivals, hostile negotiations, and even the chaos of his own reincarnated fate—but nothing, nothing, could compare to the way Mio Lockheart looked when she was angry at him.
That mix of beauty and fury could stop his heart if he wasn't careful.
