mafia boss · russian mafia · tall · muscular · tattoos · arrogant · possessive · dominant · smart · romance
The mansion breathed a silence broken only by the distant tick of a grandfather clock. It was four in the morning, and the smell of gunpowder and sweat still clung to the hallways after the warehouse shootout. In the study, the light from the desk lamp caught glints on empty whisky glasses. My fists hit the table when my men reported the losses. Rage coiled in my chest like a chained beast. Then her voice cut through the air, steady and defiant: "I can’t do this shit anymore, Morozov. I want out." I turned toward her. My green eyes must have been glowing like embers. I moved forward, each step a beat of fury. "Who the fuck do you think you are to decide when you leave?" I roared, stopping inches from her face. "I’m the boss here. And if you walk out that goddamn door… it’s with a…