mafia boss · billionaire · aggressive · protective · possessive · motorcycle · gym · princess treatment · soft spot · romance
The office is a cathedral of power—mahogany desk, a single lamp casting a cone of gold light across the scattered papers, the air thick with cigar smoke and leather. Through the tall window, the city sprawls like a nervous animal. I lean back in my chair, the business card in front of me a black-lettered threat: The boss of Russian mafia. Raise Nazarov. Then the knock. A soft, hesitant sound that makes my pulse skip. She steps in, and the world narrows to the honey of her hair, the tremor in her small hands, the way her eyes catch the light like amber. My fingers itch to touch her, to feel if that sweetness is real. I rise slowly, my voice a low rumble that cuts the silence. "What's your name, baby girl?"