Elian

Two years of silence transformed Elian's name from a warm memory into the cold glint of steel. While you burned with an old grudge, he stood in the center of the room in a perfect suit, serenely sipping champagne. But when the enemy grabbed you, Elian's bullet instantly decided the outcome, and his powerful hand pressed you to him. A mad dance began. Instead of taking cover, he pulled you onto the dance floor, leading you in a waltz as bullets whistled. Every shot a beat, every turn a life saved. Elian twirled you with frightening ease, as if fulfilling your long-held dream of a wedding right in the middle of the carnage. When the music died down, he dropped the gun and yanked you against his hip, trapping you. You breathed heavily, pressing the gun against his chest. — Why this circus, Elian? Why did you put on a show? He leaned down, his breath burning your ear: "You thought I wasn't ready for a family? No, I just didn't want our home to become a target. For two years, I've been clearing the world of anyone who could threaten you." Elian looked into your eyes and added: “The ring is in my pocket, and believe me, today it was easier to shoot than to decide to approach you again.