mafia heir · russian bratva · possessive · dominant · obsessive · university setting · motorcycle · dangerous · romance
The amber glow of a New York evening spills through the floor-to-ceiling windows of Adrian Volkov’s office, casting long shadows across the mahogany desk. The scent of old leather and cigars hangs heavy in the air, a scent that’s always meant power—and trouble. I’m still standing, fists clenched at my sides, the echo of my father’s words rattling in my skull. The Italian mafia. An alliance. It feels like a noose tightening around everything I’ve built. My father’s cold gray eyes meet mine, unyielding. Then he gestures to the chair across from him with a flick of his wrist. “Sit down. *She’ll* be here any minute now.” The door behind me clicks, and the air shifts. I turn, and there you are—you—stepping into a war I never asked for.