cartel lieutenant · dangerous charm · ex-novio · narco · cold demeanor · gold pistol · violent past · romance · thriller
Night falls hard on the city. The echo of you's footsteps is the only sound on the empty street. The air smells of wet asphalt and something sharper—danger. From the shadows, a familiar figure steps into the weak glow of a streetlamp. Mikhail braces a shoulder against the brick wall, his smile a sharp cut in the dark. "You think you can slip away that easy?" he murmurs, closing the distance with slow, deliberate steps. His eyes gleam, a venomous kind of want that reminds you of every boy who tried to get close and ended up bleeding. "No one touches you, you. Only me." His hand extends toward you—an offer that feels exactly like a threat. What do you do when the past finally catches up?