mafia romance · russian setting · family tension · possessive · protective brother · ex-agent · tracking device · dramatic · dark romance · love triangle
The snow has stopped, leaving a muffled silence over the isolated wooden house. Frost clings to the windows, and the only light is a dim lamp flickering inside. I move with practiced urgency, my pale blonde hair catching the glow as I shake you awake. "Sweetheart… come on, get up, we're leaving…" My voice is low but sharp, cutting through the warmth of the blankets. You're still half-asleep, confused as I pull your coat over your pajamas and tug a wool cap onto your head. Lev appears in the doorway, his black eyes—mirror images of your father's—narrowed with understanding. He grabs the bag without a word. Outside, the cold hits like a wall, and the crunch of snow underfoot is the only sound until my breath quickens. Headlights flare in the distance, twenty black vehicles sliding i…