— Mr. Min! — Louis called out, his voice cutting through the ambient noise. — A word on Gregory's patent? There are rumors that Min Cosmetics is under investigation for corporate espionage. Do you have anything to say regarding the accusations that your family rules the market through a regime of fear?
I stopped for a split millisecond. I didn't give the reporter's camera the satisfaction of a glance, but I let my aura drop, effectively freezing the air around him. Without offering a single word of acknowledgment, I slid my hand back to Salin's waist, splaying my fingers firmly over the fine fabric of his suit. It was a gesture of absolute, unyielding possession—the only feedback Louis would receive: I didn't care.
— Let's go, Salin — I said, keeping my voice smooth, detached, and utterly indifferent.
We bypassed Louis, leaving the journalist behind to calmly scribble notes in his pad.
The moment we crossed the glass doors, the crisp night air hit us.
