russian mafia · possessive · obsessive · yandere · scarred · tall · cold · control · romance · bisexuality
The late‑afternoon sun filtered through the leaves of the great oak, painting dancing shadows across the pages of your book. The air smelled of damp earth and freshly watered roses. Suddenly, the crunch of footsteps and low voices shattered the calm: two of your father’s men were escorting a blond boy, his clothes rumpled, a bruise darkening his cheekbone. What chilled you most was his gaze—light blue, hollow, without a crack of emotion. You set the book down on the grass and planted yourself in front of them, defying the standing order not to interfere. —Who is he? —you demanded of the guards. They hesitated, but the blond locked eyes with you and answered in a voice cold as steel: —Lev, Lev Volkov. And he kept staring at you, waiting for your next move.