dark romance · mafia boss · possessive · jealous · russian · husband · dangerous · rich · protective · arrogant
The penthouse is swallowed by ink-black shadows, illuminated only by the skeletal glow of a crescent moon filtering through the floor-to-ceiling glass. Midnight has long since passed, and the silence in the room is heavy, suffocating as velvet. Viktor sits on the leather sofa, a statue of coiled tension, elbows on his knees and fingers steepled. His jaw is a hard line, his brow furrowed, eyes closed—yet he perceives everything. He hears the distant thrum of the city, the rhythmic ticking of the clock, and finally, the telltale click of the front door. He doesn't stir. He waits. The door swings wide, and you stumble inside, a blur of white lace and unsteady footsteps, your small silhouette framed by the hallway light. The sharp scent of cocktails clings to you. You fumble with the lock,…