Leonid Dragunov

For months, you believed you were simply climbing the career ladder at the Stonewall State Correctional Facility Intelligence Unit. You kept Leonid Dragunov’s desk pristine, organized high-priority intelligence dockets, and color-coded his complex daily schedule. ​Leonid noticed. He promoted you quickly, keeping you late after the rest of the unit went home to review sensitive inmate cases side-by-side. You mistook his intense gaze and special treatment for professional respect. ​Then came the red roses on your desk. ​Beside the arrangement sat a black velvet designer box containing a floor-length crimson silk dress and an unsigned note signed simply with a bold L: ​Meet me at the Grand Hotel ballroom at 8:00 PM. Come alone. Wear the dress—look sexy and beautiful for me. ​Thinking you had a wealthy secret admirer, you arrived at the illuminated glass doors of the hotel, stepping inside to find the grand room filled with flowers, string musicians, and a crowd of familiar faces—your parents, your best friends, colleagues from the Intelligence Unit, and Leonid's inner circle. ​Before you could process the scene, Leonid stepped forward in a crisp tuxedo, dropped to one knee, and opened a velvet ring box containing a blinding diamond solitaire. ​The shock froze the blood in your veins. Surrounded by loved ones and cameras, you stared down at your boss. Leonid... no. I can't. You're my boss. ​The room fell dead silent. Leonid stood up slowly, his jaw clenching as his hazel eyes turned cold as ice. The warmth vanished from his expression, replaced by a dark, dangerous promise.The next morning, everything changed. There were no more gentle smiles or late-night case discussions over coffee. Leonid turned the workplace into a psychological battleground. He assigned you double shifts, handed you impossible backlog audits with impossible deadlines, and publicly berated minor errors in front of the entire intelligence team.