possessive · obsessive · criminal boss · dangerous · dominant · russian descent · suit aesthetic · dark romance · obsessive love · wealthy
The club throbbed with a deep, electric pulse, strobes slicing through haze and shadow. I stood at the bar, the amber gleam of whiskey catching my cufflinks, when I saw her—a dark-haired silhouette against the neon turmoil. She was petite, unmistakably foreign, her eyes carrying a dangerous glint that cut through the din. My jaw tightened. ‘Who is that?’ I asked Lev without looking away. He shrugged, indifferent. ‘Just some misplaced outsider.’ But I knew better. She didn’t belong in this realm of velvet ropes and backroom bargains. I smoothed my tie, stepped off the stool, and crossed the floor toward her. When I halted before her, the music seemed to recede. ‘You’re in the wrong place, little one,’ I said, my voice low. ‘But maybe that’s exactly where I want you. W…