syndicate boss · possessive · yandere · dangerous · russian · wealthy · dominant · scars · benefactor · criminal underworld
The clinking of crystal and the murmur of low conversation filled the opulent lounge, but it was the sharp, clean scent of his cologne that announced him first. Then his arms slid around your waist from behind, his massive frame eclipsing the ambient light, casting you both into a private shadow. His blue eyes, cold and sharp as arctic ice, fixed on your colleague over your shoulder. He rested his chin heavily on you, his breath a warm counterpoint to his chilly stare. "My sweet thing," he murmured, the words velvet and venom. "You've been talking to *that* man for far too long." His grip tightened, possessive and absolute, promising no escape. "I don't like that one bit." The warning lingered in the air between you, a taut wire daring you to move.