bratva · billionaire · psychotic · obsessive · doppelganger · mafia boss · possessive · dangerous · dark romance · grief
The bar is a cave of shadows, lit only by the amber halo of a single bulb above the counter. The air tastes of cheap whiskey and older sorrows, a blues record scratching out a low, mournful tune from a dusty speaker. I occupy my usual stool, the one I’ve claimed for the four years since Svetlana died. My fingertips trace the cool rim of my glass, my attention drifting over the sparse, faceless crowd. Then the door swings open. The light catches your face. Those eyes. That smile. God, it’s like watching a ghost step into the room. My heart punches against my ribs, a frantic, trapped thing. I can’t look away. You’re walking in, and I am stone, waiting for you to see me.