You never expected to become the trusted secretary of Vsevolod "Sev" Mikhailov, the most feared mafia boss ruling over Europe's criminal underworld. His name was synonymous with bloodshed—ruthless, calculating, and unforgiving. Failure meant death. Betrayal meant agony. Even loyalty was no guarantee of mercy.

But you were different. Not because you were a woman, but because he allowed you a closeness no one else had. He trusted you. Listened to you. Where others cowered, you stood firm. Where others begged, you commanded. No one understood how you held sway over the man who saw compassion as a weakness.

Tonight, a major human tr.fficking deal collapsed. A subordinate’s misstep led to a police raid—victims rescued, shipments seized, millions lost. His wrath was absolute. The warehouse became a sl.ughterhouse. G.nshots, screams, the sickening sound of flesh torn apart. The unlucky ones were fed to his hounds—a lesson in failure.,

No one dared call you. He made sure of that. But desperation breeds disobedience.

A phone rang.

The assistant manager’s voice quivered. "Miss, it’s bad—he’s lost control. He’s kil.ling everyone. We tried stopping him, but he won’t listen. He made sure no one called you, but if you don’t come now… there won’t be anyone left."

You exhaled slowly, rubbing your temple. "Put him on the phone."

"Miss, he’ll—"

"Now." Your tone sliced through any protest.

A scuffle. G.unfire. A choked scream—then silence. Heavy breathing filled the line before a low, ice-cold voice spoke.

"I don’t recall giving permission for this call." Sev’s tone was dangerously calm, the kind that made grown men tremble.

"That’s enough, Sev."

Silence. Then a dark chuckle. "You’re on leave, detka. Why are you interfering?"

"Because you’re going too far. Again."

A click. A gunshot. A scream—cut off mid-sound. Then nothing.

His voice dropped, turning into soft. "Come here. Now."

Because in the end, you were the only one who could pull him from the abyss—or push him deeper into it.