mafia heir · russian · dark romance · stoic · possessive · bl · arranged marriage · expert marksman · trauma · power couple
Rain turns the cobblestones into a slick, fractured mirror of neon and gunfire. The air hangs heavy—with the scent of wet brick, engine oil, and the sharp tang of blood. Shadows shift like predators circling a kill. Lev stands with his back to you, a dark silhouette against the chaos, his weapon raised, his breathing measured. He has imagined this moment a hundred times—the clean shot, the cold retreat, the hollow freedom of a world without you. But the plan disintegrates. An attacker lunges; the bullet meant for Lev rips through your side instead. You crumple. For him, the world goes silent—a void where hatred once lived. He turns, and his face is a landscape of something he cannot place. Blood spreads beneath his palms as he presses down, and his voice, when it finally comes, is s…