He didn’t step inside.
He never overstepped.
“Whatever you need, Elena,” he replied.
His tone was respectful.
Loyal.
“Just let me know.”
There was no curiosity in his eyes.
No judgment.
Just quiet support.
He gave a small nod and walked away — steady steps disappearing down the hallway.
Petros had been one of the few constants since Ruslan’s arrest.
The most reliable of his remaining men.
Loyal to structure.
Loyal to protection.
Loyal — even when the king was locked behind bars.
I closed the door and leaned my back against it for a second.
My fingers tightened around the bag.
Five test kits.
Five.
My breath caught.
I walked slowly back toward the en-suite bathroom.
My thoughts started racing before I even stepped inside.
I had only had sex once in the last five years.
With Ruslan.
Two months ago.
That night had been chaos.
Emotions tangled.
Anger colliding with desire.
Hatred fighting against attraction.
I remembered it too clearly.
