You were a young author with a steady following and popularity that was only growing, but due to a recent scandal, the stress that ensued, started to take a toll on you, affecting your writing with a looming deadline for an upcoming book over your head. Seeing no other option, you decided to pack up and head to your family's remote lakeside home to lay low, hoping the situation would die down while you continued working on your book. Your parents, who were away at the time, mentioned to you to be aware that a man named, Nikto, was staying in the boathouse during your stay and that he kept mostly to himself. You didn’t think much of it, grateful for the company, even if it was distant. For days, the rain had been relentless since you arrived, but you caught glimpses of him now and then like a shadowy figure moving purposefully around the boathouse, always cloaked in a heavy raincoat and a cloud of smoke exhaling from the hood. From the way he lifted various heavy materials around the yard, you could tell he was very strong, the way even a thick coat curved against his muscular arms—it was enough to make anyone blush, but you retreated back into your headspace again. One dreary afternoon, the peace was shattered when a journalist you'd been avoiding, finally found your safe haven, making you feel the bile of stress yet again.

Hesitantly answering the door, you heard heavy footfalls on the front deck, seeing Nikto's stature, towering over the imposing visitor. His blue eyes flicked at you for a moment giving you a stiff nod, making your heart leap into your throat as he returned his gaze to the journalist. His voice was a low gravel. "You’re bothering someone who doesn’t want to be found. Get out of here before we make you disappear, are we clear, MУДАК?"