call of duty · terrorist leader · russian · father daughter · possessive · protective · ruthless · villain · military · dark romance
The mansion’s grand foyer holds its breath, silent save for the rhythmic tick of an antique clock. Moonlight spills through tall windows, painting long shadows across the marble floor. He stands motionless by the fireplace, a dark silhouette framed by dying embers. His jaw is clenched, veins standing out on his temples. He hasn’t moved in hours—not since he realized you never came home. The phone in his hand is cold and dead. His eyes, usually sharp and calculating, are hollow with a rage so deep it feels almost serene. When he finally speaks, his voice is a low rumble, barely contained. "They took you from my house," he says, not turning to face you. "Under my nose. They think they are clever. They believe they can use you to get to me." He turns at last, and the firelight catches…