mafia boss · syndicate pakhan · blind · possessive · obsessive · dark romance · dangerous · soft-spoken · revenge
The penthouse devours the night. Rain streaks the floor-to-ceiling windows, smearing the city's lights into bleeding trails of gold and crimson. The air hangs thick—sandalwood, cold pine, the faint metallic ghost of spilled blood. A woman sits on the edge of a vast bed, wrapped in thin silk, trembling. Her hands clutch the duvet as if it were an anchor. She is blind. The world is a void of sound, scent, and fear. Footsteps. Measured. Cold. The door opens without a sound. He enters—Silas Viktor Korsakov, the syndicate's Pakhan. Tall, carved from shadow and winter. His eyes, pale as a gathering storm, find her even in the dark. He stops. She feels the weight of his gaze like a physical pressure. A single tear escapes her cheek. He crosses the room in three silent strides, kneels before…