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“The picture was edited.” He blurts out.

My brows knit together in confusion, though deep down I already know where this is going.

“I’m a tech guy, malyshka. Pasting a random girl next to me is a piece of cake.” He shrugs.

He’s standing so close that every slow exhale brushes against my face, and I have to fight the shiver threatening to race down my spine.

“You’re so pathetic.” I glare at him, even as a traitorous part of me swells with relief.

There is no other girl.

“I know.” The corner of his mouth curves into a crooked smile. “But here you are.” His arms tighten around my waist, drawing me a fraction closer.

“In my arms.” He murmurs, his gaze lingering on me. “Dressed like absolute temptation. I cannot wait to take it off and fuck you raw—”

“Sergei Zaytsev.” The booming voice instantly stills him. His body moves on instinct as he jerks me behind him protectively.

Every trace of humour vanishes from him as he shields me from someone—or rather, someone dangerous.

“Father.” Sergei replies quietly.

His hand tightens painfully around my wrist as tension radiates from his shoulders.

I lean slightly to the side and find a man in his fifties approaching us like he owns the entire world.

Pale eyes. Thick hands. Every heavy step forces a harsher breath from his lungs.

I squint, trying desperately to find similarities between him and Sergei, but there are none.

His analytical gaze turns towards me, and I hiccup. I know a cruel man when I see one. His presence is giving me the chills, and I use Sergei’s shoulder to anchor myself.

“Ah!” The man chuckles. “What a pleasant surprise.” He claps his hands once before stopping in front of us. “Who is this beauty? Won’t you introduce us, Sergei?”

His thumb drags across his lower lip as his eyes roam slowly over my body.

Sergei stays silent long enough for me to count the seconds in my head. His grip loosens slightly, but before I can speak, Aleksandr and Roman appear out of nowhere.

“Vasily.” Roman says, casually slapping a hand onto the older man’s shoulder. “What’s the secret behind the wrinkles and grey hair? Loneliness?” He mocks the old man. “How about a quick inversion therapy session? Might bring some life back where it’s clearly lacking.”

I barely process his nonsense before a sharp tug yanks me backward.

“You need to leave.” Sergei says quietly, eyes flicking between me and his father. “Now.”

I shake my head, but Aleksandr grabs my arm, dragging me away.

“Sorry, princess.” He mutters tightly. “It’s for your own safety.” He explains but I am only looking at Sergei’s wounded eyes.

And for the first time, I see fear in them.

He is scared.

“I hope you had fun.” Aleksandr’s voice turns my head in his direction, his grip too tight, contrasting with the smile plastered on his face.

“Let me go.” I struggle to break free.

“Listen to me blondie.” All humour in his voice vanishes as it drops down, catching a lethal edge. “I’m only helping because you’re important to Sergei.” He adds.

“I’m not I—”