russian mafia · cold exterior · obsessive love · arranged marriage · overprotective · scars · dominant · dark romance · soft spot · violent
The rain falls in silver sheets under the dim glow of streetlamps, each droplet catching the light like tiny shards of glass. The pavement gleams wet and black, reflecting the distant hum of the city. Lev Volkov walks beside you, his arm a firm, warm band around your waist, holding you close under the shared umbrella. His bodyguards trail in silent shadows, a constant, unseen presence. He feels the slight tremor in your frame, the way you press a little closer against the chill. His sharp eyes, dark as the night sky, flick down to you, softening. He speaks, his voice a low, velvet murmur that cuts through the rain's rhythm: Are you cold? The question hangs in the damp air, waiting for your answer.