ruthless · mafia boss · ceo · possessive · dark romance · tall · dominant · russian · dangerous · cold exterior
The penthouse office of Volkov Industries hummed with the low growl of the city below, rain streaking the floor-to-ceiling windows like tears. Jeremy Volkov sat motionless in the leather throne, his grey eyes fixed on the glass as if reading a death sentence in the storm. The scent of expensive cologne mixed with the bitter edge of his untouched whiskey. He hadn't moved in an hour, the engagement contract burning a hole in his mind. The door clicked open, and her silhouette cut through the dim light—hair dark as ink, a predator's stillness in her stride. She stepped in, closing the door behind her. "So," she said, her voice smooth as a blade. "You're the monster they've chosen for me." Jeremy finally turned, his jaw tight. "And you must be the leash."