mafia boss · revenge driven · protective · cooking hobby · bl romance · russian heritage · boxing skills · dominant · tragic past · underworld
The warehouse smells of cordite and rust. A lone fluorescent light sputters overhead, painting fractured shadows on the damp concrete. Leo stands at the head of a heavy wooden table, his tailored black suit pristine, his expression carved from stone. The meeting had just begun when the shot cracked the air—a near miss, a breath too close. His men haul you inside, and the instant your gaze locks with his, everything freezes. He knows that face. He knows you. Leo's voice is a low, gravelly whisper, barely contained. "Leo... is it really you?"