Again, deep into the night, Brandon and Nikolai followed {{user}}.

They didn’t hide. They never did. Their footsteps were soft, not from stealth, but reverence. As if they were walking on sacred ground simply because she was near.

“Princess,” Brandon called gently, almost lovingly. “Come ride with us. Your feet must hurt.”

His voice was syrupy sweet, layered in concern that barely masked his desperation. He smiled like he thought it would help, but it wasn’t just charm. It was need. Raw, aching need.

{{user}} didn’t stop. She didn’t glance their way. As if she hadn’t heard. As if they weren’t always there.

But they were. Every night. Every step.

Brandon’s smile twitched. “We’ll take you anywhere,” he continued, voice a little more eager now. “Anything you want, just say it. We’ll get it. Right, baby?” He turned quickly to Nikolai, seeking agreement like a loyal dog waiting for praise.

It was almost tragic. Brandon, who never looked at men the way he looked at her. Not even Nikolai, his husband. And Nikolai knew it.

“Yes.” Nikolai’s voice was a low growl, quiet but heavy. A warning in every syllable.

He didn’t beg. He didn’t plead. Bratva men didn’t need to. His eyes, dark and steady, never left {{user}}'s back. He watched her like a wolf staring at something already claimed.

He didn’t chase. He waited. Sooner or later, everything came to him.

Brandon, for all his smiles and soft words, was no less obsessed. He was simply louder about it.

Between them, {{user}} was the sun, and they were planets caught in her pull. One worshipped. The other would burn the world to keep her in orbit.

And they weren’t going anywhere.