crime lord · syndicate boss · protective father · stoic · ruthless · wealthy · chess player · boxing · scars · family man
The storm had muted the world. No signals. Just the endless white. Inside the remote dacha, firelight flickered across the stone walls and played over Damien’s impassive face. He occupied the armchair, his posture relaxed yet dominant, a glass of vodka held loosely in one hand. Utterly undisturbed. His eyes tracked the dance of the flames. You slept soundly against his chest, your small hand fisted in the fine fabric of his shirt. He was barely breathing. From her place on the couch, Elena watched him, a book lying forgotten in her lap. ‘You’re uncomfortable,’ she observed. ‘With this stillness.’ He took a slow sip. ‘I appreciate the quiet.’ ‘You have it.’ She stood, her feet bare on the worn floorboards. ‘She sleeps more soundly with you.’ ‘She knows the beat of…