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I’m beyond excited for tonight, humming along as I slip into a figure-hugging black dress, the silky fabric caressing my skin. Dima stands in the doorway, his tailored suit and crisp white shirt clinging to his muscles. For a second, I pause in the reflection of the mirror, mesmerized by how hot he looks. He grins at me, his excitement mirroring my own, and taps on his watch.

“Oh,” I clear my throat, reminding myself to focus, and put on some earrings and a final coat of lipstick before sliding into my heels and grabbing my purse.

I run toward the door, hand outstretched.

"Ready to hit the club?" he asks, extending his hand.

"Absolutely," I reply, taking his strong hand in mine. Tonight, we’re going to blow off some steam, and I can’t wait.

***

The pounding bass pulses through my body as Dima and I make our way through the crowded nightclub. Strobe lights flash in time with the music, displaying the energetic crowd packed onto the dancefloor. I can't help but smile, excited for a carefree night of drinking and dancing after the stress of this week.

Dima's hand rests on the small of my back, guiding me through the lively horde of people. I glance back at him, taking in his sharp suit and intense gaze scanning the club. He meets my eyes and grins, giving me a little wink.

"Let's grab some drinks!" I shout over the music, leading him by the hand toward the packed bar. The bartenders are a blur of activity, mixing vivid cocktails for the thirsty patrons. Dima orders us some colorful concoctions, complete with sparklers and umbrellas. I happily sip my sugary drink under the pulsing lights, already feeling lighter and freer.

Tonight is exactly what I needed. A chance to let loose, have fun, and unwind with Dima at my side. The atmosphere is electric, and I'm ready to dance the night away!

"Cheers to a night of fun," I say, raising my glass.

"Cheers," he echoes, our glasses clinking together in agreement.

As I down my drink, I glance over at Dima leaning against the bar. His eyes constantly scan the club, subtly surveying the scene even as he sips his cocktail. I notice how he positions himself between me and the rest of the crowd, keeping me in his line of sight.

When a group of rowdy guys stumbles past us toward the dance floor, Dima's body tenses ever so slightly as his gaze follows them. His hand reaches out and gently pulls me a bit closer to him. I feel slightly annoyed at his protectiveness. Those guys are like ten feet away!

"Dima, lighten up! We're here to have fun," I say, giving him a playful nudge. He just smiles tensely back at me and nods, though his eyes continue roving over the club.

Perhaps he needs a distraction.

Feeling the beat coursing through me, I grab Dima's hand and pull him onto the dance floor. Surrounded by the lively crowd, we lose ourselves in the music and the heat of each other’s bodies. He puts his hands around my waist, and I turn around, swinging my hair over to one side. He bends, his lips on my neck, as I feel him throb against my ass.

Heat pools in my belly, and I grind the hell out of him, sipping on my drink, feeling this sweet, blissful high I’d love to ride out all night.

The song changes to something louder, something more upbeat. I notice my drink’s finished and raise my empty glass.

Dima frowns and bends close. “Come with me!” he insists.

“No,” I shake my head. “One of us should stay here on the floor. It’s getting crowded, and we’ll lose our vantage point,” I point at the perfect view of the DJ booth.

He shakes his head, grabs my hand, and pulls me off the floor.

“What the hell, Dima?” I scream into his ear over the music, but he ignores me.

At the bar, I finally noticed something different about him. There's an intensity in his eyes that seems out of place in this carefree atmosphere.

"Hey, are you okay?" I ask, trying to read his expression.

"Of course, just having fun," he replies with a forced grin, but I can see the gears turning behind his eyes as he scans the room and adjusts his position to keep me in view while trying to hail down the waiter.

As the night goes on, I try to lose myself in the music and drinks, hoping Dima will relax, too. But he remains hypervigilant, not letting me out of his sight for a second. His constant hovering starts to grate on me. I came here to let loose, not to be under his watchful eye all night.

Finally having enough of his intense behavior, I grab Dima's arm firmly. "Let's get out of here," I say, my tone making it clear I won't take no for an answer. He raises his eyebrows in surprise but doesn't argue.

My newfound independent streak is kicking in now. I need to talk to him about this possessiveness of his, and I'd rather not make a scene here at the club. Tonight was supposed to be fun, but now I'm just feeling stifled—time for us to head home.

***

Once home, my annoyance reaches its boiling point. As soon as we're inside, I round on him.

"What was that all about tonight?" I ask pointedly, hands on my hips.

Dima looks taken aback. "What do you mean?"

"The overprotective bodyguard routine. You barely let me out of your sight!"

"I was just looking out for you," he says defensively.

"I don't need looking after, Dima. I can handle myself." I keep my tone firm but calm. I'm not here to pick a fight, just set some boundaries.

I turn on my heels and walk through the house toward the living room, with Dima at my heels, and sit down on the couch, arms crossed. Dima watches me warily from the door, like a deer caught in headlights. I take in a deep breath, gathering my thoughts and channeling my newfound confidence.

He runs a hand through his hair in frustration before speaking. "This city is dangerous, especially for a beautiful young woman."

"But I wasn't alone, I was with you." I counter. "I trust you to keep me safe. But I don't want to feel smothered either. I mean, you were hovering around me like a hawk, watching my every move. What's that all about? We’ve been out before, you’ve never behaved this insane before!" my last words come out louder than I intended.

Dima scratches the back of his head, clearly uncomfortable under my direct gaze. "I just wanted to make sure you were safe, Lara."

"Safe?" I scoff, raising an eyebrow. "From what? A dance floor full of people having fun? That's what we were there for, remember?"

"Look, I didn't mean to upset you," Dima admits, running a hand through his hair. "But I can't help it. I just…I worry about you."

"And I worry about you too," I retort sharply, standing and stepping closer to him. “But in situations where it’s appropriate! What’s next? You’re going to insist on entering the shower with me so I don’t drown?”

Dima's eyes widen at my boldness, clearly taken aback. He hesitates for a moment before finally speaking. "Lara, I know you can take care of yourself. But the truth is…I care about you. More than I should. And it scares me."

"Excuse me?" I blink, surprised at his confession. "What do you mean, 'more than you should'?"

"Ever since I first saw you, it’s hard for me to admit, but I feel like I went crazy. This is hard for me to say, but initially, I tried to keep my distance, but I couldn’t," he explains, looking away. "I fell for you, Lara, and from the very start, I’ve tried to keep you…all to myself,” he whispers.

“All to yourself?” I ask icily, feeling a flare of anger surge through me, my heart clenching at the memory of Dima's conversation with his sister. I step back, putting some distance between us.

“I,” he blushes. “I know it’s unfair, but I trapped you into this marriage because I couldn’t imagine you being with anyone else.”

"Wait a second," I say, my voice shaking slightly. "I overheard you talking to your sister about this…about how Sofia assessed your feelings for me. You told her nothing, but she said you were into me. You never said anything to me."

Dima's face falls, and he rubs the back of his neck. "Lara, I didn't want to complicate things further. I was trying to figure out the best way to handle it. But yes, since we got married, it’s getting harder and harder for me not to want to be with you at all times. I say I want to keep you safe, and I do. But more than that, I want to keep you by my side because…I’m falling for you."

My cheeks flush at his confession, and my mind races with a million thoughts. I had no idea he felt this strongly. But hearing him confess his true feelings, I know mine match his the moment the anger fades away.

This is not what I expected to hear tonight—but it's exactly what I needed. The corners of my lips curve into a playful smile, realizing I care deeply for this complex, intense man.

"Is that why you were acting like my personal bodyguard?" I ask teasingly, looking up into his eyes. "Because you care about me?"

Dima's face reddens, and he clears his throat awkwardly. "Yeah…something like that."

"Good," I reply softly, reaching up to touch his face. I move closer, our faces just inches apart. "Because I’m falling for you too, Dima. And maybe it's time we stop pretending this is just a convenient arrangement."

"Sounds perfect," Dima whispers, his voice hoarse, his eyes etched into mine.

I can feel the heat radiating from Dima's body as we stand so close together, the intensity in his gaze making my heart race. There's an undeniable spark between us, which I’ve experienced on many nights, but now it feels like it's finally ready to ignite.

"Are you sure about this?" Dima asks, his voice low and husky. The concern in his eyes is evident, but so is the desire.

My anger is a distant memory as I search his eyes and see sincerity. Dima truly cares for me. Has cared for me from day one. "I want you," I say softly.

Dima looks relieved. "I should have told you how I felt sooner. But I didn't know if you could ever understand where I’m coming—"

I silence his doubts with a kiss, crushing his lips against mine. Dima's hands slide down to my waist, his fingertips tracing light circles that leave fiery trails along my skin. I run my fingers through his hair, pulling him closer until there is no space left between us.