And still…it doesn’t feel like enough.
Outside the window, I see the estate glow under carefully placed lights, the exterior polished to perfection. Luxury cars line the drive. Music drifts through the air, soft but deliberate. Controlled. Like everything else tonight.
In the garden outside, the atmosphere is sharp.
Laughter comes easily, but it doesn’t reach people’s eyes. Conversations are smooth, but every word is measured. Everyone here understands what this night really is.
A statement.
A warning.
The Rusnaks are not weak.
The Rusnaks are not afraid.
And more importantly, the Rusnaks are united.
I’m still in my bedroom, adjusting my cufflinks, when the door opens.
I don’t look up immediately. I should. But I don’t. It’s probably Misha, coming with updates on security.
Not until I feel it. A shift in the air.
Then I lift my gaze. And forget everything else. Valeria stands at the doorway.
For a second—just a second—my mind blanks.
Because whatever I expected…it wasn’t this.
Matteo outdid himself.
The dress isn’t loud. It doesn’t need to be.
It’s controlled. Structured. Elegant in a way that doesn’t beg for attention—but commands it anyway. It traces her frame with precision, every line intentional, every detail calculated.
Strength disguised as beauty.
Or maybe the other way around.
Either way—
She owns it.
Completely.
And I don’t see a refugee. I don’t see a liability. I don’t even see a problem to solve. I see power. Standing in my doorway like it belongs there.
My gaze lingers longer than it should.
Long enough that I’m aware of it.
Long enough that she notices.
But I don’t look away.
I can’t.
Soft music drifts up from the garden below.
