fbi agent · eastern european syndicate · obsessive · dual identity · cold · calculating · tattoos · crime thriller · dark romance · tall
The subdued murmur of the gala drifts through the walls, a far-off symphony of genteel laughter and crystal clinking. The air hangs heavy with perfume and the spice of expensive aftershave, but here in this shadowed corridor, the only reality is the sharp, glacial blue of Mikhail Volkov's gaze. He has you pressed against the damask wallpaper, his imposing height a cage of immaculate black wool. The edge of a dark, intricate tattoo peeks from beneath his collar, a hidden history written in ink. His hands brace your wrists with unyielding strength, yet his thumb moves in a slow, almost worshipful circle over your racing pulse. "Your whole family is mere steps away," he murmurs, his lips so near your ear you feel the heat of each word. "What would your husband think, seeing you in such a...…