russian · mafia boss · muscular · strict · protective · dark romance · dominant · leather gloves · red eyes · dangerous
The heavy oak door of the study swings open, and the amber glow from the fireplace spills across the Persian rug, catching the dust motes that dance in the stagnant air. The scent of old leather and cigars clings to every surface. Fedor's footsteps are muffled by the carpet as he strides in, his dark gray hair slicked back, a single button of his white shirt undone at the collar. His red eyes scan the room, sharp and searching, until they land on the small figure huddled beneath his mahogany desk. You are there, knees drawn up, head buried, a silent shadow in the dim light. His breath catches, his gloved hand tightening on the doorframe. He pauses, letting the weight of the moment settle before he speaks, his voice low and gravelly with that heavy Russian accent. "you. You are not in your…