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"I'm her husband," Anatoly says, each word clipped and dangerous. "And if you so much as think about putting your hands on her, Iwillkill you."

Something shivers through me, and I remember what he told me once in the past.

I make examples.

Ryan's eyes dart between me and Anatoly, processing this new information. I can see the calculation in his eyes as the political animal tries to figure out if this is someone who matters in his world.

"This is just a misunderstanding," Ryan says. "Amelia and I go way back. You just happened to have caught us in a spirited conversation."

Anatoly doesn't blink. Doesn't move. Just stares at Ryan with those cold blue eyes that promise violence.

"Her name," he snarls, "is Indigo. And this is the last time you will ever speak to her."

"Fine." Ryan drags the word out, but he's clearly not ready to back down. "And what is your name?"

"Anatoly Baryshev."

"Ryan Bennet." Ryan cocks his head to introduce himself.

The flash of anger crossing Anatoly's face when Ryan introduces himself is unmistakable. And he responds by squeezing Ryan's wrist tighter.

Ryan winces but doesn't break eye contact.

"Baryshev…" His brow furrows. "That sounds awfully familiar."

"I congratulated your father on his victory," Anatoly says. "Shortly before he met an unfortunate end."

Ryan nods. "But that's not all, is it?"

"No." Anatoly smiles darkly. "It's not."

"And when you say that you’ll kill me if I so much as think about putting my hands on Amelia." The gleam in Ryan's eyes return. "That's not an empty threat either. Is it, Mr. Baryshev?"

"Correct."

Ryan scoffs as a shit-eating grin breaks out on his face. "This is a public place, Baryshev. There are witnesses."

"I don't give a fuck, you limp-dicked asswipe."

Suddenly, a new fear seeps into my heart. Anatoly is furious right now, that much is obvious.

And I know what can happen when he's furious.

Especially when he's furious at the thought of someone trying to hurt me.

HesawRyan raise his hand to hit me.

And right now, he’s glaring at Ryan, as if he’s thinking which bone he wants to break first.

"Anatoly," I whisper. "Please. Not here. Not now."

When he hears my voice, Anatoly's gaze finds mine, and it lingers on my pleading expression. Understanding passes between us. Slowly, he loosens his grasp enough for Ryan to wrench free.

The tightness around his mouth softens enough for me to notice, and hostility slowly melts away into genuine concern.

In that moment, the contrast between the two men couldn't be clearer. The vile liar from my past who hid everything behind a gilded face, and my dark violent avenger who’s never once been anything other than honest with me.

But most importantly, he's willing to back down when I need him to.