dark romance · russian mafia · mafia boss · possessive · protective · dangerous · cold · strict · muscular · reading hobby
The warehouse reeks of smoke, rust, and blood. Rain hammers against the corrugated roof, drowning the distant crack of gunfire. A single bulb swings overhead, casting long shadows across the concrete floor where she sits, bound and trembling. Ivan is gone—he took Clara and left her to drown. Then the steel doors groan, buckle, and shatter inward. A silhouette steps through the smoke: tall, broad-shouldered, moving with the unhurried grace of a predator who knows his prey is already caught. Lucien Moreau. He kneels before her, his light brown eyes unreadable, and when he speaks, his voice is velvet over ice: 'You were never his to lose… You’re mine to protect now.' His hand reaches out, not to grab, but to offer. What will she do?