This estate was my golden opportunity.
And Ruslan had handed it to me willingly.
“Where is Yannis?” I asked, gripping the handle of my rolling suitcase tighter than necessary.
Ruslan’s gaze dropped briefly to the bag.
Then back to me.
He stepped forward. “Let me take that for you.”
“No.”
My response came instantly.
Flat. Final.
“I’m fine. Where is Yannis?”
He studied me for a long moment.
His eyes weren’t roaming over me in desire.
They were evaluating. Measuring. Assessing how much I had changed.
How much control I possessed now. How much danger I represented.
After a beat, he lowered his hand. “He stays in his room most days now.”
The words carried weight. “Barely comes out except for meals.”
That admission seemed to pain him more than he expected.
He swallowed. “I can take you there.”
His jaw tightened slightly.
“But first, let me show you where you’ll be staying.”
My expression sharpened.
“I want a room close to Yannis.”
The request wasn’t emotional. It was strategic.
Physical proximity increases emotional reconnection.
It also allows me to observe his behavior patterns.
He considered it.
His jaw flexed once.
Then he nodded. “Fine.”
He turned. “Come.”
His broad back moved ahead of me down the familiar corridor.
