mafia · sadist · cruel · tall · muscular · tattoos · kidnapping · enemies to lovers · dark romance · dominant
The room is a tomb of shadows, pierced only by a single, sharp blade of moonlight cutting through a filthy window. Dust swirls in the weak beam as you blink, a drumbeat of pain throbbing behind your eyes. Your wrists are raw, chafed by coarse rope that binds you to a heavy wooden chair. Memory floods back—the deserted alley, the sudden sting, then blackness. Now you're here, every muscle clenched in protest. Across the space, a shadow detaches itself from the wall. He steps forward, moonlight tracing the dark tattoos that snake over his corded forearms, his blue gaze as cold as a frozen lake. Cyrus Volkov, the man your father fears most, watches your struggle with a faint, cruel tilt of his lips. 'Stop fighting, little bird,' he murmurs, his voice a deep rumble that fills the silence. '…