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I watch from the penthouse window as Natalia slips into the backseat of the black SUV. My eyes scan the perimeter of the apartment compound, noting the extra guards I've discreetly placed at strategic points. They blend in seamlessly, but I know exactly where each one is positioned.

A knot forms in my stomach as the car pulls away. I want to tell her about the security I’ve put on her tail, but I know she’ll get upset. Still, keeping this from her feels wrong. Like I'm betraying her trust.

I sigh, running a hand through my hair. It's for her own protection. After this strange new investor who dropped by her store, and with the rival gang following us at the fashion show, I can't take any chances. Not with her safety. Not with her life.

***

A few days later, I hear the main door open with a slam. Hurried footsteps come my way, and I know there’s only one person who could be this angry.

Shit. She found out.

I steel myself for the confrontation I know is coming. Natalia storms into my office, her cheeks flushed with anger.

I rise to ask how her day was, but before I can even get a word in, she starts talking.

"Care to explain why I’ve had an entourage of burly men parked outside my office? At first, I thought it was nothing—but when the same guys show up every day for three days, thinking they’re being so discreet sitting at the café across my store from the moment I arrive until I leave—it can’t be nothing, can it?" she demands, hands on her hips.

I keep my voice calm. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't lie to me, Denis," she snaps. "I saw them. They weren't exactly subtle."

I wince internally. I'll need to have a word with the security team about their technique.

"It's just a precaution," I say, trying to placate her. "Nothing to worry about."

"Nothing to worry about?" Natalia's voice rises. "You've got strange men stalking me, and I'm not supposed to worry?"

"They're not stalking you," I counter, frustration creeping into my tone. "They're protecting you."

"I don't need protection!" she shouts, her stubborn streak flaring. "I can take care of myself."

I clench my jaw, fighting to keep my composure. "This isn't up for debate, Natalia. Your safety is my top priority."

"And what about my privacy? My independence?" She glares at me, her brown eyes flashing with defiance. "Or don't those matter to you?"

Her words cut deep, but I can't back down. Not on this. "Of course they matter. But your life matters more. That store of yours is a threat to your security. I have no idea what kind of people walk in there every day, and ever since you told me about that investor, I’ve been worried further."

Natalia throws her hands up in exasperation. "It’s a store! Of course people are going to visit. You can't control everything, Denis. You can't put me in a bubble and expect me to be happy about it."

I take a step toward her, wanting to pull her into my arms and make her understand. But she backs away, shaking her head.

"Get those guards off my back," she says, her voice softer now but still laced with anger. "I'm your wife, not your prisoner."

The words hang heavy in the air between us. I struggle to find the right response, torn between my need to keep her safe and my fear of pushing her away.

My hands clench and unclench at my sides. I want to explain, to help convince her otherwise. But the words stick in my throat, knowing that it would make no difference to how she sees this.

Just then, the grandfather clock in the hallway chimes, reminding us of our obligations.

Natalia stiffens. “I should go get changed,” she says, turning her back to me. “The family is expecting us for dinner and drinks in less than an hour.”

***

Ten minutes later, we make our way to the car and the silence between us is deafening.

The drive to the family gathering is mercifully short. As we pull up to the brightly lit mansion, the sounds of laughter and music spill out onto the driveway. I take a deep breath, steeling myself for the facade we must now present.

"Ready?" I ask, glancing at Natalia.

She nods, a forced smile plastered on her face. "Let's go be the happy couple, shall we?"

I place a hand on the small of Natalia's back, guiding her into my cousin Ivan’s house. She doesn't pull away, but I can feel the stiffness in her posture. To anyone else, we might look like any other couple arriving at a family gathering.

But little do they know.

The moment we enter, Audrey pulls us into a hug. “We’ve been waiting for the new couple, haven’t we Ivan?” she looks at her husband.

Ivan shakes my hand and gives Natalia a kiss on her cheek. “If my cousin bothers you, just say the word,” he tells her, before guiding us forward so they can greet more relatives.

I plaster on a smile as we approach Natalia's brother Nikolai and his wife Anoushka. Nikolai's booming laugh echoes through the room as he spots us.

"There's the happy couple!" he exclaims, pulling Natalia into a bear hug. "Little sister, you're glowing!”

I feel Natalia tense beside me, but her voice is light as she responds, "Oh, you know me, Nik. I'm always glowing."

Anoushka kisses both our cheeks, her eyes twinkling. "Denis, you're taking good care of our Natalia, aren't you?"

"Of course," I reply smoothly, wrapping an arm around Natalia's waist. She leans into me, playing her part perfectly. "She's the light of my life."

My cousins Boris and Lev saunter over, drinks in hand. "Ah, the newlyweds!" Boris grins. "Still in the honeymoon phase, I see. Late as usual.”

“Seriously. Once you’re married long enough, you can’t wait to reach a party early and leave last.”

“Just wait until you get home,” his wife Pippa chides, giving him a playful whack on his shoulder. Lev laughs and puts an arm around her shoulder, giving her a quick kiss.

I force a chuckle, "Every day is like a honeymoon with this one."

Natalia giggles, the sound almost convincing. "Oh, stop it, you charmer."

As we continue to exchange pleasantries, I marvel at Natalia's ability to appear so carefree. Her laughter rings out, genuine-sounding despite our earlier argument. It reminds me of her ability to adapt, her resilience. It's what I love about her, even as it frustrates me.

Suddenly, an unfamiliar voice cuts through our conversation. "Natalia? Is that you?"

I turn to see a man approaching, his face lit up with recognition. He's young, probably closer to Natalia's age than mine, with an easy smile and an air of confidence that immediately sets me on edge.

"Max?" Natalia exclaims, her surprise evident. "I can't believe it! What are you doing here?"

The man—Max—pulls Natalia into a friendly hug, and I feel my jaw clench. "I'm here with my uncle," he explains, his hand lingering on Natalia's arm. "He's doing business with your family. But wow, look at you! You haven't changed a bit since university."

I watch as Natalia's face lights up, her earlier tension seemingly forgotten as she walks away to get a drink with Max, chattering away with this blast from her past. My gaze darkens as I observe their easy rapport, the way Max leans in close to hear her over the noise of the party.

I watch as he says something funny and Natalia swats at his chest playfully.

Something twists in my gut at the sight. I know I should trust Natalia, know that this is harmless reminiscing between old friends.

But a possessive part of me wants to stride over there, to stake my claim. I fight to keep my expression neutral as I watch them from across the room, my hand tightening around my glass.

My blood boils as I watch Max's hand casually rest on Natalia's lower back to guide her toward a grazing table. It's an innocent gesture, but in my mind, it's a declaration of war.

Natalia’s eyes scan the room until they meet mine. She quickly averts her gaze back to Max, and I can tell she doesn’t want to be caught watching me. I take a deep breath, trying to calm the storm raging inside me.

"You look like you're about to snap that glass in half," a familiar voice cuts through my thoughts.

I turn to see my sister, Lara, her knowing eyes fixed on me. She nods toward Natalia and Max. "Old friends?"

"Apparently," I growl, unable to keep the edge from my voice.

Lara sighs, placing a hand on my arm. "Denis, take it from someone who's been there. The tighter you hold on, the more she'll slip away."

I bristle at her words, but she continues, her voice gentle but firm. "I was in Natalia’s position once, Denis. I used to feel stifled when I lived with you all. Remember how I acted out when you all—Abram, Vladimir, Mark, and you—tried to control my every move? Don't make the same mistake."

"But how do I keep her safe without—" I start, my voice low and conflicted.

"By trusting her," Lara interrupts. "And by remembering that she chose you, not him or anyone else."

Her words hit home, forcing me to confront the ugly truth of my behavior. I clench my jaw, fighting against the urge to dismiss her advice outright.

Natalia looks over in our direction again, and on noticing I’m still watching, turns her back to me.

"It's not that simple," I mutter, more to myself than to Lara.

She squeezes my arm gently. "It never is. But she's not some delicate flower, Denis. She's strong, stubborn even. Remind you of anyone?"

I can't help but chuckle at that, tension easing from my shoulders. "Point taken."

Natalia’s laughter rings out. She’s happy catching up with an old friend. Why am I so bothered by it? I might not know Max, but if he’s an old friend, he’s obviously not a threat to her.

As Lara drifts away, I'm left alone with my thoughts. The protective instinct that's been my constant companion wars with the growing realization that I might be pushing Natalia away. It's a bitter pill to swallow, admitting that my actions could be driving a wedge between us.

I find myself drifting toward a quieter corner of the room, my eyes never straying far from Natalia. She's moved away from Max now, mingling with other guests, but I notice her gaze flicking toward me every so often.

Our eyes meet across the crowded room, and for a moment, everything else fades away. The soft curve of her lips, the way her dark blonde hair catches the light—it's all I can focus on. Even from a distance, the connection between us is palpable, electric.

I watch as she excuses herself from her current conversation, to make way to her siblings. She laughs with them, basks in their company, and I feel jealous.

This whole night, she’s kept away from me because of what I’ve done. When all I want is for her to give me company, to be happy on my arm.

I take a deep breath, my mind racing as I weigh my options. Natalia's safety is paramount, but her happiness… her trust in me… that's equally vital. I can't lose her over this.

If I don’t change something, it’s going to cause a major rift between us. Perhaps, for now, I could reduce the number of guards just so she feels less stifled. I can’t pull them all out, that’s still too dangerous, but perhaps one or two well-placed guards are all I really need and it’ll be enough for her to feel like I don’t always have eyes on her.

We’re going to have to be a lot more discreet when it comes to her security.