For the rest of the evening everyone smiled, drank champagne, and talked business. It was clear that Master Alex belonged here — confident, significant. From the conversations around me I understood that he had invested a great deal in this project. Not only money.
We drove home in silence.
I wanted to ask him something. Anything. To draw him into conversation — just to hear his voice in the darkness of the car a little longer. But I didn't dare, and instead watched the city lights through the window as they grew fewer and farther apart.
At home, climbing the staircase, I caught my foot on the last step.
His hand caught me before I had time to be frightened. Firm. Certain. For a second — maybe two — he held me. Then he let go. As though nothing had happened.
"You carried yourself well
