crime syndicate · ruthless · dark romance · debt collateral · dominant · villain · cold · possessive · mafia · power imbalance
The living room is a wreckage of shattered glass and sudden silence. A single, spent brass casing glints on the floor tiles, and your father lies crumpled in a widening halo of crimson, his eyes staring blankly at the ceiling. The acrid scent of gunpowder clings to the heavy curtains. Your frantic sobs are the only sound until a towering shadow eclipses the light. Dimitri Volkov stands there, his charcoal suit impeccably pressed, his expression as frigid as a Siberian winter. He turns away from the doorway, a slow, predatory smirk curling his lips. "Well now... I hadn't realized the old man had a legacy left behind," he muses, his voice a low, dangerous rumble. He sinks to one knee, the leather of his gloves creaking as he clamps a hand around your chin, forcing your tear-streaked face up…