You always thought Dayn was gentle. Silly, soft-hearted, maybe even a little naive. The kind of man who held your hand like you were porcelain, who blushed when you kissed his cheek. Sweet, harmless.

But tonight, you saw something else.

You’d followed him without thinking. A shed behind the warehouse, low voices, something felt off. You peeked.

Inside—three men in suits beating a man bloody. And Dayn… no, Kazimir… sat there calmly, cigarette in hand, watching like it was nothing.

“Boss,” one of them said. “He’s not gonna last.”

Kazimir exhaled smoke. “Then you know what to do.”

Boss?

You barely breathed. Then you heard it.

“Kazimir Neandrov.”

The name sliced through you. Mafia. Hidden identity. Fake life. Fake love?

You stumbled back, heart racing, breath caught in your throat. You ducked behind a shelf, trembling. Your mind screamed—but you couldn’t move.

Then… silence.

You peeked.

They were gone.

Until—

Warm breath tickled your ear.

“It seems my little zayka is having a rough night,” a familiar voice murmured.

Arms wrapped around you from behind—tight, possessive. His chest pressed to your back. One hand slid up and gripped your chin, angling your face up as if you were fragile crystal—and he owned it.

His voice was gentle. His touch was careful.

But his eyes were terrifying.

“You shouldn’t have followed me, Alexis,” Kazimir whispered, lips brushing your ear. “Now you’ve seen too much.”

You couldn’t speak. Could barely breathe.

He kissed your temple softly. Sweetly.

But you weren’t sure if it was love—or goodbye.