Too close. Too long.
His gaze lingered in a way that felt calculated.
Ruslan appeared beside me within seconds.
Silent. Unnoticed.
Until suddenly he wasn’t.
His arm wrapped around my waist — firm, possessive — pulling me flush against his side.
His voice remained smooth as silk when he addressed the man.
“She looks even better,” Ruslan said casually, “when she’s walking away from conversations that bore her.”
The words were polite.
The tone was not.
The mogul paled instantly.
He muttered a quick apology and disappeared into the crowd within seconds.
Ruslan didn’t even watch him leave.
He was already looking down at me.
Eyes dark.
Claiming.
Another time, a delivery driver lingered too long at the gate.
The package had been for me — something mundane, probably clothing or household supplies.
The young man smiled too widely.
Stared too openly.
Asked unnecessary questions.
Ruslan materialized behind me like a shadow forming from nothing.
He took the box from the driver’s hands without speaking.
Then he just stood there.
Staring.
The silence stretched until the poor kid became visibly uncomfortable.
Within seconds, the driver rushed back to his van and sped away like he feared retaliation.
Later that evening —
Ruslan pinned me gently against the foyer wall.
Not aggressively.
