Apollo whined softly, paw still extended. Viktor stared at it like it was a trap. Then, with visible reluctance, he took the paw. Shook once. Released.
Apollo brightened immediately, tail going from polite to enthusiastic.He trotted away, grabbed his favorite rope, and brought it back like tribute.
“No,” Viktor said flatly. “Toy is not in protocol.”
Apollo tugged anyway, insistent. Viktor's stance didn't shift.
I leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. “You know what? Forget the dog. Let's talk about what happened today.”
“Nothing happened today.”
“You intercepted a photographer.”
“I did my job.”
“I didn't need you to.”
His eyebrows rose slightly. “Photographer was getting aggressive.”
“I had it handled. I've been handling press since I was six years old. I know how to manage a crowd.”
“And I know how to identify threats before they escalate.”
“It wasn't a threat. It was a journalist doing his job. You made it look like I needed protection from cameras.” I pushed off the doorframe. “Do you have any idea what that looks like? The Prince who can't handle basic press without his bodyguard intervening?”
“Better that than Prince who gets injured because bodyguard was too polite to intervene.”
“I wasn't going to get injured. It was a camera, not a weapon.”
“Cameras can be weapons. Angles can be aggressive. Crowds can turn.” His voice stayed level. Professional. Infuriating. “I will not apologize for doing what I was hired to do.”
“I didn't ask you to be hired. That was my father's idea.”
“And I did not ask to be assigned to spoiled prince who thinks security is optional. That was my boss's idea.”
The words hung between us. Sharp. Brutal.
“Spoiled prince,” I repeated. Voice gone quiet. Dangerous.
“You asked for honesty. There it is.” Viktor's expression didn't change. “You treat security like performance. Like image management. You do not take threats seriously because you think charm and good publicity will protect you.”
“I take threats plenty seriously. What I don't take seriously is some Russian mercenary treating me like I'm incompetent.”
“I do not think you are incompetent. I think you are reckless.”
“Reckless.” I laughed. Sharp. Bitter. “You've been here for not even a day. You don't know anything about me.”
“I know enough. I know you smile for cameras while insurgents plan your death. I know you shake hands with people who want your family destroyed. I know you pretend two assassination attempts in six months are normal.”
“They are normal. For me. This is my life. This is what being heir means. Smiling while people try to kill you. Pretending everything is fine while the world falls apart.” I stepped closer. “You think I'm reckless? I'm surviving. I'm doing my job. Just like you're doing yours.”
“My job would be easier if you let me do it.”
“And my job would be easier if my father hadn't hired a bodyguard who treats me like a liability instead of a person.”
Viktor's jaw worked. “You are not liability. You are principal.”
“Really? Because from where I'm standing, you look at me and see a problem to be solved. A variable to be managed. Not a person who might actually know what he's doing.”
