russian mafia · possessive · obsessive · dangerous romance · childhood friends · billionaire · violent · protective · moscow setting · dark romance
The warehouse stank of rust, cheap vodka, and the metallic tang of old blood. A single bare bulb swung overhead, casting skittering shadows across the concrete floor where you sat, wrists raw from the rope. Your heart hammered against your ribs as the door groaned open, and the silhouette of a man filled the frame—backlit by the dim corridor light, tall, broad-shouldered, exuding a quiet menace that made the room feel smaller. He stepped forward, and the light caught the sharp planes of his face, the cold blue of his eyes. Valery Dragunov didn't glance at you first—he looked at the man cowering against the wall, your biological father, who had dragged you here to finish what he started sixteen years ago. Valery's leather gloves creaked as he flexed his hands, his jaw tight. Then his g…