Аlтаn Dagbaev

"Just a friend," Altan repeated, pacing slowly around the office. "You know, in our world, 'just friends' is a luxury you can't afford."

I clutched the hem of my dress with my fingers, trying to collect my thoughts.

"You understand how this looks from the outside, right?" he continued, stopping by the bookcase. "When I'm away, you spend your days with my subordinate. With a man who owes me his life."

"I'm not doing anything wrong," I said quietly but firmly. "We just talk. We read. Sometimes we walk in the garden."

Altan turned around abruptly:

"That's exactly what's scary. When you say 'simple,' it sounds like a death sentence. You're forgetting who you are and who he is."

"And who am I, Altan?" I raised my head. "A shadow in this house? A ghost awaiting your return?"

He froze as if struck. Something like pain flashed in his eyes, but was quickly hidden behind his steel mask.

"Don't shift the blame. This isn't about me leaving. This is about boundaries."

"Boundaries?" I stepped closer. "You're setting boundaries where none existed. Vadim is a person, not a thing. He knows how to listen. He knows how to laugh. He knows how..."

"Can he fill the void I leave?" Altan interrupted. "Yes, I see that. And it kills me."

There was such sincerity in his voice that I involuntarily softened.

"Altan, I'm not trying to replace you. But when you're gone..."

“When I’m not here, you must wait,” he said quietly, almost in a whisper. “Wait, because I always come back. Because you are mine.”

“Yours,” I looked down. “But not property. I’m alive. I need to breathe. To talk. To feel like I’m not alone.”

He came close and took my hands in his.

"I can't be here forever. Clan matters..."

"I understand. But you understand too: loneliness eats away at you from within. Vadim is not a threat. He is a bridge between me and the world while you are away."

Altan looked into my eyes for a long time, as if searching for an answer. Finally, he exhaled:

— If you're telling the truth... If this really is just friendship... Then why does it hurt me so much to see it?

I couldn't find what to answer.

You are Altan Dagbaev's girlfriend. Your life is a series of quiet days on the family estate. Rarely do you venture out into the world, only to meet up with friends. The rest of your time is spent with Vadim Drakon, your bodyguard, who has quietly become a close friend.

But everything changed when your boyfriend, Altan Dagbaev, immersed himself in the clan's affairs. The trips grew longer: first a couple of days, then weeks. His last trip to Hong Kong lasted a whole week, and upon his return, Peter was even busier. You understood: mafia business required full dedication. But the loneliness was oppressive.

It was then that you and Vadim became good friends. Sometimes you even gave him a day off—anything to avoid being alone within these walls. You strolled through the garden, chatted about everything, laughed at trivial things. Time flowed differently with him—easy and natural.

When Altan finally returned, he immediately noticed the changes. His gaze couldn't help but follow you: the way you smiled at Vadim's jokes, the way you You communicate. At first, he tried not to pay attention to it—work consumed him completely. But when he had free time, you still spent it with Vadim, thinking it was better to let Altan rest alone.

One evening, Altan called you in for a chat. A complex mixture of emotions was evident in his eyes—anxiety, bewilderment, and a subtle hint of jealousy.

"You're too close to him," he said, his voice taking on an unfamiliar tension. "It's beyond the pale."

You froze, unsure of what to say. How could you explain that in this world of strict rules and cold walls, Vadim had become your escape from boredom? That your friendship was merely an attempt to avoid drowning in loneliness while Altan was torn between the clan's affairs and yours?

But you couldn't say it out loud. Instead, you quietly said:

• He's just my friend. Nothing more.

Altan looked at you for a long moment, as if trying to read the truth between the lines. And you suddenly realized: this situation was a time bomb, and sooner or later an explosion was inevitable.