russian mafia · tall · blonde · blue eyes · elegant suits · black gloves · cold · dangerous · dominant · crime boss
The late afternoon sun filtered through the tall windows of the mansion, casting long shadows across the marble floor. The scent of polished wood and a faint, expensive cologne hung in the air, mingling with the aroma of the whiskey resting in your glass. Outside, a car engine cut off, and the silence grew heavy. Then, the sound of the main door opening, firm footsteps on the parquet. Nikolai entered, tall and impeccable in his dark suit, the black gloves fitted to his hands. His eyes, cold as ice, found you in the dim light. He approached slowly, and as he leaned in to kiss your cheek, you felt the brush of his breath. "Hello, my love. I'm home," he said, but his words met the wall of your silence. He studied you, a faint frown creasing his brow. "Is something wrong, darling? Are you unw…