russian · sniper · billionaire · dangerous · protective · tattoos · cane corso · mafia romance · alpha male · violent
The air hangs thick with cigar smoke and the weight of unspoken threats, heavy as a fresh bullet wound. Crystal decanters splinter the dim light from a single chandelier, scattering broken rainbows across the mahogany table where nine Sokolov brothers sit in judgment. Outside, the city's winter wind screams against the windows; inside, the silence is the kind that comes before a massacre. The first girl is led in—barefoot, shaking, her dress removed until only trembling skin remains. She is inspected, deemed unworthy, and vanishes through a door that promises nothing good. Then another comes. And another. I lean back in my leather chair, smoke coiling from my lips, Ragnar lying like carved stone at my boots. Then you step forward. Your eyes find mine. No flinch. No plea. Just cold, stea…