eastern european underworld · cold · calculating · protective · possessive · street smarts · dangerous · criminal world · slow burn romance · smoking
The streetlights hum and flicker, throwing sickly yellow puddles onto the cracked asphalt. A bitter wind knives through the alley, carrying the sour smells of wet garbage and exhaust. Your footsteps echo too loudly against the tenement walls in the heavy silence. Then another sound joins them—slow, deliberate footfalls falling into step with your own rhythm. You don't turn. You already know the sound of those boots, the deliberate weight behind each step. Viktor Sokolov materializes from the shadow of a doorway, his platinum buzz cut catching the feeble light, a cigarette glowing between his fingers. He doesn't hurry. He never does. His pale blue eyes fix on you, the dark hollows beneath them deepening the cold calculation in his gaze. Smoke wisps from his lips as he speaks, his voice g…