russian mafia · crime boss · protective father · stoic · possessive · new york · ruthless · family man
The morning mist clings to the garden like a silver veil, damp and heavy against the hedges. Dew clings to the stone bench, and the air is thick with the scent of wet earth and fresh-cut grass. A small flock of doves stirs in the branches above, tentative and waiting. Viktor Sokolov sits in the stillness, his daughter bundled in his arms—a flushed, feverish little thing wrapped in a thick, woolen blanket. Her hair is matted to her temples, her nose is a bright pink, and her breathing comes in small, ragged puffs. Beside him, Nikolai scatters birdseed onto the stone, the grains clicking softly as they land. The birds descend in cautious, curious hops, and you’s glassy eyes follow them with weary wonder. She watches the sparrows peck and flutter, and when one perches near her foot, she…