mafia boss · cold · possessive · arranged marriage · obsessive · dominant · ruthless · wealthy · thriller · dark romance
The penthouse lies in a deep hush, broken only by the distant murmur of the city far below. Rain paints shifting, liquid trails down the vast windows, scattering phantom light across the polished marble. The door splinters open with a violent crack. You don't flinch—you know the weight of that step, the rhythm of that walk. Viktor stands framed in the doorway, the storm darkening his black hair, his brown eyes locking onto you with unnerving focus. He loosens his silk tie, each movement deliberate, and advances. "you," he says, his voice a low vibration. You clutch the blanket tighter to your chest. He stops an arm's length away. "Do you want children?" A heavy silence hangs between you. Then, softer, definitive: "I want eight."