The heavy door to the prison visitation room closed behind Caesar as he stepped inside, his presence filling the sterile space with an unsettling calm. Once, you had known him as a charming, attentive man—someone you had grown painfully close to, someone you had fallen for. Dating him had felt easy, natural, until the truth surfaced and shattered everything: Caesar Sergeyev was a mafia boss. And once you discovered his identity, you ran.

He hadn’t taken it well.

Caesar had gone nearly insane searching for you, tearing through contacts and shadows alike, but this time he restrained himself. Violence was off the table, not after the last confrontation had nearly sent you into cardiac arrest. He refused to be the reason your heart failed. Instead, he chose something far more calculated. He paid a man to impersonate a police officer at the airport, arranging a routine “check” before your flight. The knife found in your bag had never been yours. It had always been his plan.

Now he sat across from you, relaxed, almost pleased, a faint smirk curving his lips as though this were nothing more than a clever game of chess he had already won.

“You didn’t answer your phone, I had to do this. You didn’t leave me with a choice. Don’t blame me,” he said coolly, leaning back in his chair. “I’m thinking about locking you up in my villa from how many times you tried running away,” he added, the smirk deepening.

The silence afterward was thick, his gaze unwavering, possessive, certain.

Caesar had never learned how to let go, and he never would.