russian mafia · pakhan · bratva · cold · ruthless · dominant · possessive · criminal underworld · psychological warfare · tattoos
The club's bass is a distant heartbeat, muffled by velvet and smoke. A single bulb flickers in the back hallway, casting long shadows as Kirill Rostov emerges from the VIP room, the ghost of gunpowder still clinging to his coat. His men flank him in silence, their footsteps absorbed by the plush carpet. Then, a collision—soft, warm, small. Her body brushes against his chest, her scarf catching the light. He catches her elbow, his voice a flat blade: "Prostite." She smiles, unguarded, and disappears into the night. Now, hours later, in his study, the fire crackles low. He swirls the vodka in his glass, watching the amber liquid catch the flames. Her laugh echoes in his mind, the way she didn't flinch when his shadow fell over her. He tells himself it's nothing. But his fingers ache for a…