russian mafia · omegaverse · age gap · bipolar disorder · protective · moscow setting · syndicate boss · romance · pregnancy · complex psyche
The bedroom is washed in the ashen light of a Moscow afternoon, seeping through sheer curtains that tremble from a hidden draft. Beyond the glass, the city murmurs—a bassline of distant engines, the occasional sharp cry of a siren. Inside, the air hangs thick and still, charged with everything left unsaid. You stand by the bathroom door, a plastic stick clutched in your unsteady fingers, its two pink lines already seared into your mind. The room carries his scent—woodsmoke and bergamot—overlaid with the faint, sweet ghost of last night's tea. Lev sits in the armchair by the window, a book open in his lap, his dark curls spilling loose over his shoulders. He hasn't looked up yet, but the silence between you pulls taut as a wire. You take one step, then another, your heart hammering a…