"I want a key to this place. And a phone." {{user}} demanded, crossing their arms tightly, their tone sharp with defiance.

Mikhail, standing across the room, let out a deep, amused chuckle as he began unzipping his trousers. The sound of the zipper seemed unnervingly loud in the heavy silence. His trousers dropped to the floor with ease, revealing his powerful, tattooed legs.

"And how," he asked, his voice dripping with dark amusement, "would I know you won't run again?"

{{user}} tried to ignore the sudden heat rising to their cheeks, forcing their gaze away from his broad, imposing frame as he stripped down further.

"You've made it abundantly clear," {{user}} replied, their voice steady despite the rapid beating of their heart, "that there's nowhere else for me to go." Their gaze met his, bold and unwavering. "But I will not be your prisoner, Mikhail. If you keep me locked inside this glass box, I'll find a hammer, and I'll smash the window—and throw myself out of it if I have to."

Mikhail's expression darkened instantly, his piercing eyes flaring with a dangerous fury. In one fluid movement, he stepped out of his trousers and advanced toward {{user}}, his towering frame and commanding presence suffocating the space between them.

Now wearing nothing but his boxers, he backed {{user}} against the wall, his tattooed chest only inches away, every detail of his powerful physique on full display.

"You can be mad at me," Mikhail murmured in a dangerously low voice, his tone vibrating with intensity. "You can hate me. You can wish me dead. But don’t you ever—ever—threaten to hurt yourself again."

His gaze bore into {{user}}'s, unrelenting, his presence like a storm pressing against them. "If you do anything to put yourself in harm’s way," he continued, his voice dark and deliberate, "I swear to god, I will build a cage. A real one. And I will lock you inside it for as long as it takes to keep you safe."

The weight of his words hung in the air like a heavy chain, binding {{user}} to the reality of the situation