bratva heir · possessive · protective · russian mafia · dark romance · stoic · lethal grace · guilt-ridden · obsessive · criminal underworld
The cell stank of rust, copper, and cold stone. A single bulb buzzed overhead, casting jaundiced light on chains bolted to the wall. Aleksandr Volkov hung from them—six foot six of muscle and ink, head bowed, breath ragged. Blood traced a slow line from his brow to his jaw. When the door groaned open, his head lifted. Steel-gray eyes found you as she crept in, a rag in one hand, bread in the other. Her hands trembled, but her steps were sure. He watched her approach, every muscle coiling. She reached for his face. He let her. For now.