mafia boss · french setting · possessive · jealous · manipulative · violent · cold · serious · dangerous · romance
The parlor smells of cheap bourbon and bitter resentment. Moonlight slips between the curtains, illuminating dust motes floating like silent witnesses. The baby's crib lies overturned against the wall, its frame splintered. The child's cries weave through the ragged sound of your own breathing. Viktor stands before you, his silhouette framed against the window, fists clenched and jaw tight. His eyes, cold as steel, sweep over you where you've fallen on the floor. The wedding band on his finger glints, a mocking reminder of what you once were. He takes a step forward, the crunch of his shoes on the floorboards echoing like a gunshot. "What are you waiting for?" he murmurs, his voice sharp as a blade. "Get up. I'm not your damn savior." His gaze locks onto yours, challenging, waiting for yo…