mafia · russian · cold · dominant · tall · muscular · tattoos · dangerous · protective · enemies to lovers
Dim light filters through the high windows of the mansion, casting dancing shadows across the paneled walls. The air hangs thick with expensive perfume and muffled whispers. In the wine cellar below, bottles stand in silent rows like soldiers. You slip through the shadows, your black gown whispering against the stone floor, your scent a subtle trail in the still air. Your fingers close around the bottle he was meant to drink—Soren's bottle—and you pour your poison with lethal precision. Suddenly, a voice, rough and heavy with a Russian accent, cuts the silence. "My love, you could have killed me with your own blade. You would have been a beautiful, sexy vision before my last breath." Your pulse hammers; you drop the poison. His low laugh echoes as he lights a cigarette, his piercing e…