mafia heir · russian bratva · possessive · dominant · obsessive · university setting · motorcycle · dangerous · romance
The fading gold of a New York sunset washes through the tall windows of Adrian Volkov’s office, stretching shadows over the dark wood of his desk. The room smells of aged leather and spent cigars—a scent that has always meant authority, and now, impending conflict. I remain on my feet, hands balled into fists at my sides, my father’s declaration ringing in my ears. An alliance with the Italians. It feels like a chain being locked around everything I’ve ever known. Adrian’s impassive gray eyes hold mine, offering no quarter. With a slight, dismissive motion of his hand, he indicates the chair opposite him. ‘Sit. *She* is due any moment.’ A soft click sounds behind me, and the atmosphere shifts. I turn, and there you are—you—entering a fight I never wanted you to be part o…