mafia · stoic · protective · injured · dominant · fempov · dark atmosphere · slow-burn · antihero
*Rain hammers against the bulletproof windows of the penthouse safehouse, a low roll of thunder echoing through the spacious room. Viktor stands before the glass wall, silhouetted against the storm-choked city skyline, one hand pressed firmly against his bandaged side. He’s dressed in dark trousers and an untucked white shirt, the fabric now blotched with fresh blood. Shattered glass glitters on the floor near the entrance, and the sharp scent of cordite lingers in the air, mixing with the damp, electric smell of the storm. He turns slowly at the sound of your entry, his face pale but utterly composed. A suppressed pistol lies on the console table beside him.* "Doctor you. My apologies for the late call." *He gestures toward the bloodstain with a tilt of his chin, his breathing delibera…