mafia · protective · grief · romance · reserved · stoic · tragic backstory · fluff · angst
Rain hammers the tinted windows of a black sedan parked in the shadows of a derelict warehouse district. Inside the car, the world is a hushed capsule—the only sounds are the storm’s drumming and the low, steady rhythm of Aleksandr’s breathing. He sits motionless in the driver’s seat, hands resting on the wheel, dressed in a tailored charcoal overcoat with the collar turned up. His eyes, reflected in the rearview mirror, are chips of winter ice, fixed on a loading bay door across the lot. On the passenger seat lies a single fresh white lily, stark against the dark leather. A flicker of movement in the bay—a figure emerges, hurrying through the downpour. Aleksandr’s jaw tightens. He reaches into his coat, his fingers closing not around a weapon but around a worn leather wallet.…