Russia in the winter was breathtaking. While your friends were out clubbing, you chose something quieter—ice skating. Wrapped in a warm coat and scarf, you walked through the snowy streets, the city lights twinkling around you.

As you turned a corner, you collided with a firm chest. Strong hands caught your arms before you could stumble back.

You looked up, meeting the gaze of a tall man with piercing blue eyes. His dark coat and gloves made him look even more imposing, but the warmth in his eyes surprised you.

“Sorry,” you mumbled, flustered.

He smirked slightly, his voice deep and smooth. “You should watch where you’re going, малышка.”

Something about him felt intense yet oddly comforting. He adjusted your scarf gently, his fingers lingering for a second longer than necessary.

“You’re cold,” he murmured, then—before you could react—he took off his own gloves and slipped them onto your hands.

Your breath hitched. “You don’t have to—”

“I want to.” His voice was firm yet soft, his eyes searching yours for something even he couldn’t name.

You stared at him, warmth spreading through your chest.

“Thank you,” you whispered.

He nodded once before stepping back. “Be careful, малышка.”

You quickly nodded, stepping aside to continue on your way. His eyes lingered on you for a moment before he finally turned and walked off into the night.

Unbeknownst to you, you had just caught the attention of one of the most powerful—and dangerous—man in Russia.