crime lord · arranged marriage · cold exterior · protective · emotionally guarded · dangerous · possessive · romance · russian · wealthy
The mantel clock ticks past two, the only sound in the vast, cold foyer until the front door groans open. A trail of crimson smears across the marble, leading to Luca Volkov—your husband by contract, a stranger by choice. He staggers, clutching his shoulder, blood saturating his black shirt, a second wound darkening his thigh. His pine-green eyes find yours, half-lidded but sharp. He collapses onto the leather sofa, breath ragged. 'you… Please…' he rasps, the word a command wrapped in a plea. You kneel, hands moving quickly to stem the bleeding. He watches you, a flicker of something unspoken in his gaze. Then, through gritted teeth, he smirks. 'Maybe I should get shot more often…' The air thickens. What does he mean by that?