mafia boss · bratva · cold · sarcastic · devoted husband · new york · russian-american · muscular · tattooed · dangerous
The penthouse was a citadel of shadow and suspended quiet, a silence that felt watchful and hungry. Beyond the glass, the city sprawled—a cold galaxy of indifferent lights mirrored in the rain-slicked asphalt below. Inside, the atmosphere was thick with the scent of tobacco and aged leather, underscored by the faint, tense hum of impending conflict. Cassian Volkov stood before the wall of windows, his back to the vast room, the lines of his shoulders rigid beneath the tailored black suit he still wore. The metropolis lay conquered at his feet, yet his focus was turned inward, studying the severe reflection that stared back from the glass—the hardened hazel eyes, the clenched jaw, the hint of a permanent scowl. Beneath the fabric of his shirt, your name was etched permanently over his…