At the dinner table, Daniel kept mostly quiet, feeling out of place as he played a role that didn't fit him. It was awkward not only to go along with Alexander's charade of being his boyfriend but also because their fading bruises hinted at a recent fight. People probably assumed they were caught up in a passionate but volatile romance.

Alexander dominated the conversation as usual, cracking jokes, discussing work and business, occasionally passing the conversational baton to one of his friends, only to reclaim it moments later. To his credit, he made sure everyone felt included, occasionally clarifying for Daniel an inside joke. Among the harmonious group, Natella and Daniel seemed like outliers, two birds that had wandered into unfamiliar territory, looking somewhat subdued and distant.

"Daniel, I thought you'd only known Sasha for a few months. How did you end up moving in together so quickly?" Daniel couldn't recall which of the two, Varya or Katya, had asked. They both shared a similar aesthetic: beautiful, meticulously groomed blondes with subtly enhanced features, from their full lips to their flawless skin and artfully tousled long hair.

"Our feelings for each other were so strong, we quickly realized we couldn't be apart," Alexander cut in, giving Daniel's knee a discreet squeeze under the table. "And now, Danny works with me."

Daniel nodded, gently removing Alexander's hand from his tender knee.

"Weren't you against mixing work and personal life?" Mark asked, his eyebrows raised in surprise as he set down his cup for the waiter to refill with mulled wine. "What prompted this sudden change?"

"Yes, Sasha, what's the sudden change of heart?" Georgy echoed, his tone mocking as he shot Alexander a pointed grin. Nastya tried to intervene, tugging at Georgy's sleeve, but he ignored her.

"Life is ever-changing," Alexander responded, his tone flat. "I've seen some people embrace office romances, so I thought I'd give it a shot. Turns out, it works for us."

The tension around the table was palpable. Mark awkwardly speared a pickled mushroom with his fork. Varya and Katya tried to inject some lightness with their cheerful chatter. Natella clattered her cutlery onto her plate and stood abruptly, followed by sullen Georgy. Boris, seemingly oblivious to the mounting tension, calmly continued eating, his emerging bald spots catching the light as he leaned forward. The discomfort of the situation made Daniel shift uneasily in his seat - Alexander, trying to divert attention from him, had recklessly plunged into a sensitive family matter involving his closest friend.

"I'm sorry, I'm feeling a bit tired," Daniel announced, setting down his utensils and rising to his feet. He reached out to steady fidgeting Alexander. "You stay, Sasha," he said, and quickly made his way towards the stairs. Sitting at the table and perpetuating their fabricated story of sudden romance felt nauseating. The dynamics had shifted since their previous evening together; back then, his role had not been clearly identified.

The confrontation with Georgy only deepened the evening's sour atmosphere. While Daniel didn't sympathize with Georgy, he felt a fleeting sense of satisfaction seeing him reprimanded by his wife. Yet, Alexander's own callous treatment of those close to him served as a stark reminder of the harsh treatment Daniel himself had endured from Alexander.

Daniel dashed across the small, circular courtyard towards their cottage but paused at the threshold, contemplating. The dinner might go on for a while, offering him a chance for a solitary walk. He looked around for any signs of the bodyguards, guessing they were likely taking it easy indoors, enjoying the warmth. Seizing a good moment, he slipped out through the gate, immersing himself in the dense, blue darkness. He headed confidently towards the distant three-story building where Sonya had mentioned staying.

Soft snowflakes melted on his cheeks, sending a pleasant tingling sensation across his skin, while the approaching glow of lantern lights seemed to call out to him. He wasn't expecting to run into Sonya - after a full day's work, she'd probably prefer not to wander around the staff quarters. Yet, Daniel wanted to imagine which window might be hers, imagining her laughter from their earlier ride together, or picturing her lying on her bed, gazing dreamily through the frosted glass at the southern stars dotting the night sky.

Warm, yellow window lights flickered, their curtains either closed or slightly open, granting Daniel glimpses into various rooms. Each silhouette he spotted filled him with anticipation, quickly waning if it didn't resemble Sonya, prompting him to continue his unhurried stroll around the building. Through these fleeting images, he imagined the activities within: conversations with loved ones, munching on apples, hair-drying, sipping tea or wine, or casual chats with neighbors. Each person behind those walls led a complete life, likely unaware of its richness. Among them was Sonya, immersed in her own plans, laughter, and moments of relaxation – she was free. Daniel did not feel jealousy, only a profound, melancholic sense of longing that intensified with every lap he completed around the building.

He continued his walk until the lights in the building's windows started to fade, and the smokers by the entrance tentatively offered to guide him. Ignoring them, Daniel tightened his hood, thrust his cold hands into his pockets, and retraced his steps. Clearly, they were searching for him; an irritated whisper carried across the courtyard.

"Check Zone A again. Mountains? Are you out of his mind? The chairlifts aren't working!" A sigh of relief followed, "Never mind, he's back," before the same voice dialed another number, "Alexander, he's back in the yard."

As Daniel pushed open the gate, he recognized the voice and immediately tensed. Maxim had traveled with them but always stayed in the background, likely acting on Alexander's instructions. The unpleasant scene from the airport flashed vividly in Daniel's mind, causing him to recoil and pull his hands out of his pockets, stiffened from the cold.

"Stay back!" he warned.

"Come inside, Alexander's waiting," Maxim responded flatly, stopping a few steps away. Daniel hurriedly went up the three flights of stairs, almost stumbling on his numb, icy feet. He flung open the door and was suddenly pulled inside.

"Do you have any idea how worried I was looking for you?" Alexander demanded as he dragged Daniel into the living room, pausing to catch his breath and collect himself. "Where have you been?"

"Just out for a walk," Daniel replied tersely, rubbing his reddened fingers together to restore some warmth.

"Oh, your walks!" Alexander sighed through clenched teeth, exhaling deeply as he unzipped his jacket. "I'm freezing out there." He kicked off his boots and tugged Daniel towards the bedroom. "I'll pour some mulled wine, would you like anything else?"

"No, thanks," Daniel replied, feeling a sense of relief; it seemed the storm had blown over, which was a relief. Alexander turned away, pouring fragrant mulled wine from a large steel-colored thermos, then asked without facing him,

"Are you upset about Georgy?"

"I don't fit in here," Daniel answered vaguely. "Among your friends, I mean. I understand Georgy's frustration to some extent, but I'd rather not be on the receiving end. I wish you'd gone alone, or... sent me back."

"He won't be causing any more trouble; I sorted things out with him," Alexander said, handing over the cup, his eyes searching Daniel's face as he savored the warmth seeping into his fingers from the hot mug and the spicy aroma filling the air. "Go on, drink up. You need to warm yourself. I promised you'd be safe with me. Is there something else bothering you?"

"I don't want to pretend," Daniel took a sip of the mulled wine, maintaining eye contact. "Why put on a show with your friends, acting like we're a couple, when our situation is entirely different?"

"What exactly is our situation?" Alexander asked, his tone turning icy.

"You know perfectly well," Daniel finished his drink, set the cup down, and moved to the sofa to grab a blanket. "I'm working off the debt, living and working under certain conditions that don't involve a healthy relationship. You shouldn't have brought me into your social circle, let alone introduced me as your boyfriend. Sooner or later, they'll catch on or Georgy will tell them."

"You shouldn't underestimate what we have," Alexander wrapped his arms around Daniel from behind, his voice tinged with anxious urgency. "Yes, things started as you describe, but they've evolved, Danny. I'm not hurting you, you're not afraid of me anymore, and the difficult parts will gradually fade away. I'll do whatever it takes."

"Fade away," Daniel repeated, gazing down at their intertwined hands. It sounded almost laughable, as though the past could simply vanish at the whim of a naive, clueless man. He should be sent into the zone, let him endure the seven circles of hell, break the things that matter to him, and then turn him into a sex slave and tell him reassuringly that everything will be fine. Without releasing Alexander's hand, Daniel reached for the blanket and said tersely, "I'm cold. Let me cover up, please."

"Let's head straight to the bedroom, get out of these clothes, and get under the covers," Alexander turned Daniel toward the bedroom, leading him with a strained, hushed urgency. "I know you'd probably prefer to be alone in Moscow, but I hate the thought of spending even a few days without you. What would you do there, huh? Wander around the festive city alone, feeling lonely? You enjoyed being here, Danny."

"I enjoyed it," Daniel agreed, remembering Sonya's honey eyes: radiant, warm, trusting. But it was sickening to think of her while being in Alexander's arms. And dwelling on her seemed pointless - why take a chance on the impossible?

"I still want to go back to Moscow."

"We're only here for three nights; before you know it, we'll be flying back," Alexander said, unfastening his jeans and sitting down on the bed. "A change of scenery is good for you, even your doctors agree. You'll ski, recharge, breathe fresh air... Oh, that looks painful," he said, touching Daniel's reddened, slightly swollen knee. Daniel winced and pulled away. "I'll get some ice and ointment for that. You should rest."

Daniel shed his lightweight mohair sweater and T-shirt, slipping under the thin yet cozy duvet. Looking around the room, he noted the quick change they'd made in the living area earlier. Upon their return from skiing, he'd only caught a brief glimpse of the bedroom, which had struck him as ostentatious and somewhat absurd. Now, even in the dim light filtering in from the living room, the room's overt, opulent boudoir style was striking. Alexander, ever one to opt for the best, seemed to have carried that preference here; it appeared as though they'd been allocated the honeymoon suite. Daniel tossed aside the blanket, garishly strewn with rose petals, and scoffed. The idea of feigning romantic affection for the Master in front of his close circle and bedding down in such a saccharine setting seemed ludicrous.

Alexander's entrance brought with it a rush of crisp, chilly air and an urge in Daniel to set things straight.

"Danny, let's have an honest conversation. Stop avoiding this," he pulled back the blanket and reached for Daniel's knee, but Daniel silently took the ice pack and the ointment, beginning to apply it himself.

"I believe we're at a point where we can transition to a new phase in our relationship, one built on openness and trust. You're drawn to me, even if you're still harboring resentment. I suggest you don't internalize your feelings, but instead speak openly about what's bothering you. It'll help manage the tension and prevent it from building up until it reaches a breaking point. It'll be better for both of us," Alexander seemed to have rehearsed his speech while fetching the ice pack and ointment, but Daniel's silent brooding disrupted his upbeat tempo. He sighed, his tone softening.

"Danny, I get it. I'm not oblivious. You'll likely resent me for a while, and rightfully so. I'm prepared for that resentment, truly. But let's work towards it evolving into something else. Please, Danny."

"That's absurd," Daniel said, settling in and adjusting the blanket around him. "How can we talk about trust under these circumstances? The arrangement has been clear: you give orders, I follow them, and my perspective doesn't count."

"It's New Year's Eve, a chance for a fresh start," Alexander replied wearily. "A moment to put the past behind us. I don't want the old rules anymore, even if I was the one who set them. I thought they'd work, but clearly, they haven't. I've misjudged you, and I've admitted that... We're both struggling."

"Then let me go," Daniel crumpled the blanket in his hands, his expression growing stern, his lips tightening, casting a more intense shadow in the shifting light. Time seemed to hang suspended, teetering on the edge of hope. It finally came crashing down with a simple.

"No."

"You're suffering too, you just admitted it. Sasha, you're more complex than you let on," Daniel sat up abruptly, pulling Alexander's shoulder towards him, trying to lock eyes to convey his earnestness. "Let me go, close the case if you truly care. You can do that, can't you?"

"I can," Alexander conceded, his tone subdued, "but I don't want to. You're not listening. I've told you countless times how much I care for you, how deeply I feel about you. And now you're asking me to just let you go? You'd leave for America and forget all about me."

"Ah," Daniel's voice quivered. "So, that's what your lofty talk about openness in relationships boils down to. You're not concerned about my feelings or the turmoil in my life; you're only focused on yourself. Why are you pursuing me, caring for me? Is it to offset the harm you've caused, to balance it with kindness so I'll owe you gratitude? You've already used the stick; now you're offering the carrot."

"Salinger once wrote that if everyone were selfish, the world might be a better place. I'd add that it would certainly be more honest, with less deceit and cruelty. I'm unapologetically selfish. Yes, I want you to stay; I want us to spend the time we have left together, to see the world from my perspective. Maybe, just maybe, you'll come to appreciate it."

"I won't," Daniel slumped back against the pillows, eyes fixed on the ceiling with a cold detachment. "No, things stay as they are. I won't lie or pretend. I can be honest with everyone - tell them I'm with you against my will, serving time for a crime I didn't commit. That I've already been here a year and have two more to go. I'll let your friends know tomorrow, to bring a bit more truth and decency into the world."

"Danny," Alexander's voice broke with despair. "Why are you doing this? Don't ask me to set you free. Two years will pass, and you'll be gone. I'll clear your criminal record, help with your career. For now, just try to see me as your boyfriend, not just..."

"The aggressor?" Daniel quipped with a hint of spite. "I'm not feeling motivated, sorry."

"Like a boyfriend with certain flaws. Nobody's perfect; we all have our imperfections," Alexander paused, searching for the right words. "Tell me what's bothering you about our relationship, and I'll try to make adjustments. You can shout at me, even argue with me, if it helps you deal with your darker emotions. Just be honest with me."

"So, can I say no to sex?" Daniel smirked bitterly.

"You can, if you truly don't want to," Alexander responded cautiously. "But you do want..."

"How would you know what I want when you just take what you want without my consent? So much for your trust-based relationship," Daniel turned away. "Let's just go to sleep; the mulled wine must've gone to your head."

"I'll ask next time," Alexander said, standing to undress.

Alexander nestled back against Daniel, snuggling gently and planting a kiss on his cheek. As Daniel shifted to the other side of the spacious bed, he exercised his right to decline.