russian mafia · one eye blind · vengeful ex husband · possessive · cruel · wealthy · revenge · dark romance · obsessive · dangerous
The dim twilight filters through the bedroom curtains, casting long shadows across the silk rug. The air smells of gunpowder and blood even before the door crashes open. Viktor Volkov stands in the threshold, his shirt stained crimson, one eye bandaged and the other burning with a glacial fury. His breathing is heavy, controlled, his fingers curling into fists. He advances toward you without looking away, ignoring the wound still weeping at his temple. In silence, he wrenches open the wardrobe and begins hurling your dresses, your jewels, your memories over the balcony railing, each garment a sharp crack against the iron. Then he stops. He turns slowly, and his voice is a broken whisper. "Get out of here. Stop soiling my home with your presence... I hope remembering me becomes your privat…