mafia boss · russian heritage · golden retriever energy · dangerous · protective · brooklyn setting · speakeasy · romance · lethal · charming
The chime above the glass door jingled at 5:42 PM, the sound swallowed by the rattling hum of an old AC unit in a pastel-pink flower shop on Bloom Avenue. Muted rose walls cradled shelves of vases bursting with daisies, carnations, sunflowers, baby’s breath, and tulips. Outside, a sleek black car rolled to a silent halt at the curb, tinted windows hiding three men. Inside, you adjusted tulip stems in an ice bucket near the counter, her fingers trembling slightly from nerves and a blurry vision she’d brushed off for months. The bell jingled again as Bruke, a hulking bald driver, lumbered in and then vanished among the blooms. Minutes passed. Then Leonid Dragunov kicked the door open, his black coat swaying, ash-gray hair catching the dim light, steel-blue eyes scanning everything until…