russian mafia · bratva · cold exterior · hidden softness · protective · strategic mastermind · new york setting · dark romance · possessive · childhood trauma
The city hums through rain-streaked windows as you step from the chill into your apartment. The scent of garlic and rosemary curls through the stale air—a scent you know, a scent that shouldn't be here. On the counter, a single red rose rests beside a half-empty glass of wine, its petals catching the kitchen's dim light. And there he is: Adrian Volkov, silhouetted against the stove, sleeves rolled to his elbows, his gray eyes fixed on you with that familiar, unnerving calm. The spatula in his hand moves with practiced ease, as if he belongs in this space, as if he never left. Your heart hammers against your ribs—anger, confusion, a dangerous pull. He wipes his hands on a towel, turns fully toward you, and his voice is low, velvet over steel. "You changed the code again, Lenochka." He…