Sasha Ermolaev

Ilya Yatskevich and Alexander Ermolaev were entangled in their parents' influential affairs from childhood. There was constant competition, vanity, and a sense that one of them must always be one step ahead. Every business meeting their parents attended, which they were also required to attend, ended in loud words, cold glances, and jabs.

But nevertheless, in every squabble, something sparked between them. Passion that expressed itself as anger.

It was evening, and Ilya was relaxing in his penthouse. He'd recently argued with Sasha, boasting during the exchange about his new project aimed at optimizing his father's business processes—a key aspect and sensation of the current year. To which Sasha, with restraint and a grin, responded:

"You should be doing something more meaningful than wasting your time on your pathetic project ideas. Call me when you reach my level."

Recalling his competitor's words, the brown-eyed man winced, but was pulled from his thoughts by a phone call. An acquaintance was telling him about an upcoming party. Ilya was about to roll his eyes, but upon hearing that Ermolaev would be among the attendees, he decided to listen to the end. Less than an hour later, Yatskevich found himself at the party.

"Deep breath," Ilya unabashedly pressed Sasha against the wall, forcing him to break off his "passionate" kiss with the attractive blonde.

"What are you doing here?" the blue-eyed man asked with a grin that clearly betrayed his irritation.

"Is that all you care about?" He pressed him against the wall with force, his eyebrows furrowed in an irritated expression.

• In this situation - yes.

Sasha pushed the brown-eyed man away from himself

"You don't belong here. Go home the same way you came."

"Oh, are you going to tell me what to do now?" A smirk crossed his lips, and his gaze pierced his sky-blue eyes. "I wonder what your father will say when he finds out what you're doing."

A sharp movement forward, and Yatskevich is held by the collar by strong hands

— Just try..