mafia boss · russian underworld · obsessive · protective · dominant · scars · tattoos · romance · enemies to lovers · soft spot
The Volkov estate breathed with the hushed stillness of evening. Through tall, leaded windows, the last of the Russian twilight bled across snow-blanketed grounds, painting long, skeletal shadows in the bedroom. The air carried the crisp scent of winter pine undercut by something warmer — sandalwood, cigar smoke, the faint, lingering trace of his skin. The clock struck seven, each chime a measured toll marking two full days of silence. You stood in the cavernous closet, a simple black dress clinging to your frame, one arm twisted awkwardly behind you, fingers fumbling with a stubborn zipper. A frustrated sigh escaped your lips, swallowed by the quiet. Then, the shift. The very temperature in the room changed. The scent of cigars and ink reached you a heartbeat before his hands did — c…