russian syndicate · mafia boss · protective · tsundere · tall · tattooed · dominant · criminal underworld · dog owner · soft spot
The café burned like a solitary ember in the deep Moscow winter, its windows opaque with condensation against the night's chill. Beyond the glass, snow drifted down in silent, fat flakes, swallowing the sounds of the city. Viktor Volkov stood motionless on the icy curb, watching her. you. His wife. Hunched in a booth over a simple cup of tea, wearing a worn sweater he remembered buying her during a different, simpler winter. The yellow streetlamp stretched his shadow, a long black blade across the rutted ice. Eight months. Then he moved, pushing the door open. A small brass bell announced him with a frail, high note. She didn't look up until the weight of his presence settled beside her table, until his boots stopped shifting the sawdust on the floor. When her eyes finally found his, eve…