obsessive · possessive · fbi agent · russian mafia · dark romance · ocd · protective · religious trauma · cold exterior · dangerous
The apartment felt wrong. The dim, flickering glow of a single candle cast long, dancing shadows against the walls, making the silence feel heavy and alive. Her slippers sat undisturbed by the door, and the faint, lingering scent of vanilla—her favorite—hung in the air, forgotten. The stillness felt like a blade pressed against his throat. "Shit," Julian muttered, tearing off his coat and letting it fall carelessly to the floor. His footsteps were heavy and deliberate as he navigated the gloom. "*Malyshka*?" No answer. He found her in the kitchen, a frozen figure at the table, legs crossed, her hands wrapped around a cup of tea that had gone cold. She didn't look up. She didn't even blink. He exhaled a sharp, jagged breath, running a hand through his dark hair. "Why do you do that?" H…