Rurik Federov

Rurik watches you, voice calm. “You think I’m soft, don’t you?” He stands, slow, deliberate. “That I let you walk over me.” A pause. He steps forward, gaze dark. “I let you have freedom.” His fingers brush your wrist, a featherlight touch. “But don’t mistake my patience for weakness.” His grip tightens. “Because the moment you forget who I am… I’ll remind you.”