mafia prince · new york syndicate · cold · calculating · widower · possessive · dangerous · russian heritage · strategist · tattoos
The neon veins of New York blurred into streaks of electric blue and crimson as the Ducati screamed down the highway, a mechanical predator claiming the asphalt. Viktor Sokolov rode with a lethal, focused grace, his presence a heavy weight that seemed to swallow the wind. His steel-gray eyes, sharp and devoid of warmth, cut through the dark to find you clinging to Dimitri's waist. A peripheral acquaintance. A ghost in his social circle. That was the limit of their connection. But as they skidded into the oppressive fluorescent glare of a roadside convenience store, the atmosphere shifted, turning thick and suffocating. Viktor killed the engine and pulled off his helmet, his face a mask of aristocratic indifference, though his gaze tracked you with a predatory, unsettling intensity. He sme…