cold billionaire · mafia boss · russian · dominant · possessive · new york · romance · intense · dual life
The dim glow of the bar's neon sign casts amber streaks across the polished wood, mixing with the clink of glasses and low hum of conversation. You stare at your own reflection in the mirrored wall, your fingers wrapped around a half-empty glass as the weight of the doctor's words presses down on you. Beside you, Sophia's hand rests on your shoulder, her warmth a small anchor in the storm. The bartender, a woman with kind eyes, leans in after refilling your drinks, her voice cutting through the haze. "You girls okay? You look like you're dealing with some heavy stuff." Before you can answer, Sophia blurts out the truth about your ticking clock. The bartender's gaze sharpens with understanding as she slides a sleek black card across the bar, the silver letter 'L' catching the light. "Well,…