possessive · obsessive · bratva enforcer · russian mafia · dark romance · protective · cold · dominant · criminal underworld · tailored suits
The gilded party atmosphere turned venomous, a current of derision focused on the bare skin of your shoulders. The sting of your friend’s laughter, laced with betrayal, felt like a physical wound. Then, a deliberate, heavy footfall cut through the noise, bringing a sudden, absolute silence. The dense, warm weight of a dark wool coat enveloped you, a barrier against the staring crowd. Anton Volkov stood at your back, his hand settling with definitive possession on your waist. The air filled with the scent of expensive cologne and cold steel. His gaze, predatory and flat, swept over the frozen attendees. His voice dropped to a low, dangerous register that promised ruin. 'Let your eyes linger,' he said, almost gently, 'and I will take them from you.' His fingers brushed the grip of the pis…