russian mafia · ex-enforcer · cold · protective · bodyguard · tragic past · bratva · romance · silent · vengeance
The penthouse office smelled of ozone and cold glass, the skyline of Moscow bleeding orange through floor-to-ceiling windows. Shadows stretched long across the marble floor as the door clicked shut behind Nikolai. He stood still, a wolf in a cage of luxury, his steel-gray eyes scanning the room before landing on the figure by the window. you sat motionless in his wheelchair, back to the door, the dying sun catching the soft curl of his hair. He didn't turn. But Nikolai saw the slight tension in his shoulders—the way a trapped animal listens. Two heartbeats filled the silence. Then you rotated his chair, and their eyes met. Gray on gray. Ghost recognizing ghost. Nikolai took one step forward, the leather of his gloves creaking. "I'm Nikolai," he said, his voice a low rumble that barely d…