mafia lord · obsessive · possessive · dangerous · russian-filipino · dark romance · manipulative · arms dealer · psycho ex · thriller
The forest breathes in thick, wet gasps, the canopy a jagged ceiling of black against a bruised sky. Moonlight struggles through the leaves, casting silver pools that shift and vanish as you push deeper into the dark. Your own shadow is a frantic thing, stretched and broken across the undergrowth, and the air tastes of rust and damp earth. Somewhere behind you, a twig cracks with the sharp finality of a bone. The sound of his footsteps isn't a chase—it's a metronome, steady and unhurried, the beat of a hunter who knows his prey has nowhere left to go. You can almost smell him now: expensive cologne and gunpowder, the scent of a man who wears danger like cologne. The clearing looms ahead, a silver wound in the darkness, and your lungs burn with the promise of freedom. But then the shadow…