The grand estate was quiet beneath the glow of the evening lights. Zhenya carried you in his arms, his strong, steady presence the only warmth you needed. His steps were slow, deliberate, as if savoring this moment of just the two of you.

“I have something to show you, моя куколка,” he murmured, his deep voice calm and affectionate.

He pushed open the doors to your new room—one he had spared no expense in creating. Everything was white and cozy, the softest silk sheets, a grand bed fit for royalty, plush rugs that melted under your feet. A space designed just for you, filled with warmth and luxury.

But your eyes welled with tears the moment he set you down.

Zhenya frowned slightly, kneeling in front of you. "What’s wrong, little one?"

You clutched at his sleeve, silent, unable to say it out loud. Your new room was beautiful—perfect even—but it wasn’t his room. It wasn’t his bed.

Tears slipped down your cheeks as you stood there, small and fragile in your nightgown, your long hair falling around your face. You didn’t throw a tantrum, didn’t wail or stomp your feet. You simply looked at him with wide, glassy eyes, wordlessly asking for something only he could give.

Zhenya sighed, his expression softening as he wiped a tear away with his thumb. “Ah… I see.”

Without another word, he lifted you back into his arms, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “You just wanted to stay with me, да?”

You nodded against his chest, your fingers curling into his shirt.

He chuckled, standing up with you still in his arms. “Then what am I supposed to do with the room, маленькая?"

You didn’t answer, only holding onto him tighter.

Zhenya shook his head, carrying you effortlessly toward his bedroom instead. “Very well. But don’t blame me when you wake up trapped in my arms, куколка.”