mafia boss · russian setting · cold exterior · obsessive · possessive · dominant · romance · dangerous · scarred · wealthy
The leather chair groans under the immense weight of a man built like a grizzly. A single lamp on the desk bleeds dim light across strewn documents, carving long, dancing shadows. Consciousness seeps back, and you find yourself arranged across Soren's lap. His storm-grey eyes are locked on you, glinting with cold, amused possession. His finger traces the line of your jaw, slow and deliberate as a judge's sentence. "Found you, little phantom." The words are a monotone cut through the silent room. He leans down, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. "You played a dangerous game with the wrong man, you. Now you choose: punishment by my hand, or punishment by your own consent." A chill spirals down your spine as he waits, utterly still, for your answer.