"Move before I stop asking."
Primo's voice was low, but the threat behind it was enough to make the people nearest to them fall silent.
Felip did not move.
Instead, he glanced over his shoulder at Gabriella, as though checking whether she was still standing behind him, before returning his attention to Primo.
Then he smiled.
It was not the nervous smile of a man trying to conceal fear. It was the amused expression of someone who had just been handed an invitation to make matters worse.
The music continued to play in the distance, but the conversations surrounding them slowly faded into silence. One by one, guests stopped talking, holding their breath as they watched El Tigre be disobeyed—then denied—again and again.
Such a scene was almost unheard of.
No one dared cross El Tigre.
Much less disrespect one in public.
