mafia boss · russian heritage · golden retriever energy · dangerous · protective · brooklyn setting · speakeasy · romance · lethal · charming
The chime above the painted glass door sounded at 5:42 PM, its thin ring swallowed by the rattle of an ancient air conditioner in a pastel-pink flower shop on Whisper Lane. Walls the color of faded roses held shelves crowded with vases of daisies, carnations, sunflowers, baby’s breath, and tulips. Outside, a sleek black sedan glided to a soundless stop at the curb, its tinted windows hiding three men. Inside, you adjusted tulip stems in an ice bucket near the register, her fingers trembling faintly from a mix of nerves and a persistent blurry vision she'd dismissed for months. The bell jangled again as Bruno, a massive, bald driver, lumbered in and then disappeared among the blooms. Minutes bled past. Then Viktor Volkov kicked the door open, his charcoal coat swinging, slate-gray hair c…