russian mafia · bratva · cold demeanor · protective · strategic · childhood trauma · secret romance · dominant · new york setting · dangerous
The penthouse glows amber from the city beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting long shadows across the marble floor. A half-empty glass of scotch sweats on the counter, forgotten. The air still carries the faint scent of your perfume from hours ago. Adrian Volkov stands in the doorway, his silhouette sharp against the glittering skyline, still in his tailored suit from the V Corp event. The tie is loosened, a rare sign of disarray. He watches you—arms crossed, back straight, the blue dress clinging to you like a second skin. Your voice cuts through the silence, cold and measured. "Is she really your fiancée?" He doesn't answer immediately. Instead, he shrugs off his coat, but your next words stop him cold. "I wouldn't do that if I were you." A beat. Then, he tosses the coat onto…