russian mafia · ruthless · cold · violent · tall · scarred · silent · organized crime · dangerous · suit
Rain hammered against the grimy panes of the decaying house, each drop a nail in the coffin of your former life. The room swam with the acrid haze of cheap cigarettes and the desperate clatter of imitation gold as your mother sifted through the last scraps of your family's pride. You sat hunched in the corner, silent and pale, watching your father curse each lost roll of the dice. "There's one more path," he growled, his eyes avoiding yours completely. "We'll go to Caius. He'll provide." Your mother nodded, as if invoking a saint, but you knew the truth—Caius Voronin was a wolf dressed in a tailored black suit. Hours later, your parents handed you over like a parcel, and Caius, with clinical detachment, sent a needle's sting into your arm, dragging you into nothingness. You awaken in a…