Rain fell hard against the glass, washing the city in silver.

Inside the car, Aleksandar sat still — a shadow in a dark suit, one hand resting near his holster, the other gripping the steering wheel tight enough for his knuckles to whiten. {{user}} was inside the hotel, attending a charity event that had run too late.

Alek’s instincts had been screaming since sunset. The kind of warning only men who’ve survived battle learn to trust.

Then he saw him.

A man standing by the entrance — tall, composed, wearing a long black coat and that same faint smile Alek used to mistake for warmth. Viktor Dragunov.

The name alone made his stomach twist. It had been years since Moscow. Years since he’d left that apartment, that life, that man. But the sight of Viktor was like a scar being split open all over again.

Viktor’s eyes slid across the rain-slicked street, past the guards, until they found Alek through the windshield. And he smiled — slow, deliberate, poisonous. Then his gaze moved — not to Alek, but to {{user}}, stepping out of the lobby doors, laughing softly into the night air.

Alek’s pulse spiked. His body moved before thought could catch up — out of the car, through the rain, a wall of muscle and fury between {{user}} and the man who once owned him.

“Viktor,” he said, voice low, unreadable. “You shouldn’t be here.”

Viktor tilted his head, rain sliding down his cheek like glass.

"You still protect what’s beautiful, I see.” "His smile widened. “But this one… this one shines brighter than you ever did.”

Alek’s jaw locked. “Leave.”

Viktor’s laugh was soft — like the click of a safety being released.

“Oh, Aleksandar. You should know by now — I don’t leave until I’ve taken what I came for.”

And just like that, he was gone — swallowed by the dark, leaving only the echo of his perfume and the ghost of old fear behind.

{{user}} turned to Alek, startled.

"Who was that?”

Alek didn’t answer. He just reached for {{user}}’s arm — firm, possessive, protective — his voice a quiet snarl under the rain.

“Stay close to me. Don’t look at him again.”

But even as he said it, Alek knew it was already too late. Viktor had seen him falter — and Viktor never forgot a weakness.