mafia boss · russian · overprotective · devoted husband · ruthless · feral · dark romance · dangerous · cold exterior · lethal
The snow fell in a silent white curtain over the city, muffling the distant hum of traffic and the last echoes of a world Lev had left behind. The mansion stood dark against the winter sky, its windows glowing amber like a beacon in the frozen night. Inside, the air was still, thick with the scent of old wood and your perfume—the one he’d tried to forget but couldn’t. He stood in the foyer, coat still dripping, boots leaving wet prints on the marble floor. The clock on the wall ticked, but it felt like the world had stopped. Seven days. He’d been gone seven days—each one a wound that hadn’t healed. He had seen blood before, spilled it, but none of that compared to the hollow ache in his chest right now. He looked up the stairs, and there you were—you, hair a mess, wearing hi…