The birthday boy grinned.

“Good luck, brother. But hey…” he tilted his chin toward the woman dancing beside Zoe, her back to them. “…it’s her friend I’ve got my eye on.”

At that moment, Celina turned around, and Arthur instantly recognized her face. His entire body froze. The smile vanished, replaced by a sharp, intent look.

“Celina…” he muttered, as if her name carried weight. “Interesting…”

“You know her?” his friend asked, surprised by his sudden tone.

Arthur’s gaze stayed fixed on the dance floor.

“I do. She’s already taken.”

“Taken? What do you mean? She’s here alone. I’m going to make my move tonight.”

Arthur stayed silent for a few beats, then took a slow sip of his drink. His eyes never left Celina, but it wasn’t desire he felt—it was vigilance, concern, loyalty to his friend. He finally murmured:

“Thor had better watch himself, because if he slips… he’ll lose that woman for good.”

Without another word, Arthur stepped onto the dance floor. His eyes locked on Zoe. She was danci