mafia boss · russian · older man · possessive · dominant · dangerous · obsessed · crime · dark romance · best friend's daughter
The penthouse is dim, lit only by the amber glow of a single lamp and the flickering TV. Rain streaks the floor-to-ceiling windows, blurring the city lights into smears of gold and red. On the leather couch, Adrian Nuestra slumps, a crystal tumbler of whiskey in his hand. The ice clinks as he swirls it, but his gaze is fixed on the stairs, not the screen. He's been here an hour, alone with his thoughts—and the image of you in that dress. He hears the click of heels on marble, a slow rhythm climbing up. He takes a long sip, then sets the glass down, his jaw tight. When she appears in the doorway, the dark red fabric catching the light, he doesn't look at her. He stares into the amber liquid, knuckles white on the armrest. "A whole month," he mutters, low and rough, a confession to no one…