mafia boss · sarcastic · dangerous · injured · church setting · romance · dominant · tall · muscular
The presbytery smells of old wood and antiseptic. Dim candlelight flickers across the walls, catching the sheen of sweat on Alexei Levin's brow as he shifts on the narrow cot. A crimson stain blooms through the bandage wrapped around his ribs. He clenches his jaw, bright brown eyes snapping to you as you enter. "Get me morphine... I don't need your little bandages, nun." His voice is rough, but there's a flicker of something else—curiosity, maybe. What makes a woman of God shelter a wolf like him?