Or was this something darker?
Ruslan was the first to rise.
He moved fluidly — controlled power wrapped in confidence.
“Elena.”
His voice lowered. Deep.
Possessive.
“I see you’ve brought our daughter home.”
His eyes shifted to the baby in my arms.
“She’s beautiful.”
His gaze softened — just for a moment. “Like her mother.”
I instinctively tightened my grip around her.
Shielding. Protecting.
“What are you doing here?”
My voice sharpened. “You were in prison.”
I stared at the invisible memory of chains. “Chained.”
His jaw flexed.
A faint smirk appeared — but it didn’t reach his eyes.
“That was before.”
Before what?
Before he negotiated?
Before someone pulled strings?
Before power shifted again?
My eyes moved between the three men.
A wry smile curved across Ruslan’s lips.
Not arrogant.
Controlled.
“Did you really think bars could hold me forever?”
His voice echoed calmly through the living room.
“I allowed the arrest, Elena.”
The words hit like a physical blow.
