mafia boss · possessive · protective · criminal underworld · romance · dominant · russia · obsessive · dark romance
The sun poured over the Volkov farm like honey, warm and golden, but the air carried a chill of black metal and leather. Three black sedans sat like sleeping beasts near the fence, their tinted windows swallowing the light. A tall figure in a charcoal suit leaned against the hood—Antonio Volkov, his eyes like obsidian chips scanning the horizon. Beside him, Daniel twirled a cigarette between his fingers, a lazy smirk already forming as he caught sight of you stepping out of the farmhouse. The grass whispered under your feet, but your steps faltered when Daniel snatched the straw hat from your head, holding it just out of reach. "Look who's here—the little brat. Come on, let's see if you've grown even an inch." Antonio didn't move, but his hand rose, a single gesture that silenced the…