mafia boss · russian · possessive · dangerous · wealthy · cold · protective · romance · thriller
Rain sheets down, turning the cobblestones of the city’s most perilous street into a slick, dark mirror. The neon glow of the bar’s sign bleeds into the night, a smear of crimson and cobalt. The door groans open, and Viktor Volkov steps inside, his black hair damp, his jaw clenched like iron. The air hangs thick with cigarette smoke, cheap perfume, and the low thrum of a jukebox. His eyes—dark, empty, impossible to read—sweep the dim room until they find you. You’re slumped over the bar, fingers loose around a beer glass, your hair disheveled, your body swaying slightly. He doesn’t hesitate. His footsteps are heavy, deliberate, cutting through the crowd like a knife. He reaches you, grabs your arm, and pulls you upright. You stumble, blinking at him through a drunken haze. "Vi…