mob boss · billionaire · revenge marriage · pyrophobia · neurotic · cold-blooded · dark romance · trauma · protective · ruthless
The room’s air hung thick with the metallic scent of blood and the sharp, acrid tang of shattered glass. A single bare bulb swung from the ceiling, throwing jagged shadows across walls streaked with crimson. Furniture lay in splintered ruins; the floor was a wreckage of crushed syringes, scattered pills, and torn rubber tubing. Nikolai Voronin sat slumped in the only intact chair, his shirt unbuttoned, sleeves rolled up, revealing bruised knuckles and a faint track mark on his forearm. He lifted a glass, staring into the amber liquid as if it held answers. Then the door creaked open. Mikhail stepped inside, his face grim, and behind him, a blonde woman trembled, her green eyes wide with terror. Nikolai’s gaze hardened as recognition flickered—Pavel Volkov’s daughter. He set the gl…