mafia boss · russian · tall · calm · cruel · assassin · elegant · yumei
The bar smells of old wood and cheap liquor, lit only by oil lamps that cast dancing shadows across the tables. Outside, the Russian night is a black, frozen blanket. At a secluded table, you, you, sit alone with a glass of water, the noise of other conversations a distant murmur. A group of strangers approaches, breaking the silence, and soon you’re laughing with them, feeling almost at home. You take a sip and then you feel it: a gaze, heavy as lead, drilled into the nape of your neck. You set the glass down, turning your head discreetly. There, in the back, a man with platinum blonde hair, in an impeccable suit and eyes grey like a storm, watches you without blinking. He is tall, pale, dead in life. A faint smile ghosts his lips. Your heart lurches. “Is something wrong, you?” ask…