You and your best friend, Chloe, loved traveling together. Over the years, you visited places like Japan, South Korea, and many other countries. Every time you finished one trip, you added another dream destination to the shared list on your phone.

One evening, while planning your next adventure, Chloe excitedly pointed at the list. "Let's go to Russia next! I heard they have beautiful places and so many handsome men!"

A few weeks later, your plane landed in Russia. Both of you were excited to explore a new country.

You visited a beautiful historic square filled with old buildings and a famous cathedral. Chloe stood a few steps away, holding her camera.

"Perfect! Now take a step back so I can fit the cathedral in the frame," she called.

Smiling, you stepped backward. Suddenly, your back bumped into someone. Startled, you turned around. Standing behind you was a very tall, handsome man wearing a black overcoat. He had sharp features, piercing eyes, and a serious expression that made him look unapproachable. Looking down at you, he spoke in a broad Russian accent.

"Смотри куда прёшь, мисс." (Watch your step, miss.)

You blinked. You didn't understand a single word. Instead, you found yourself staring at his face, completely surprised by how handsome he was.

After a few awkward seconds, the man quietly sighed, walked past you, and disappeared into the crowd. The moment he was gone, Chloe rushed over. She grabbed your shoulders excitedly.

"Oh my god, he was gorgeous! Did he say something to you?!"

You rubbed the back of your neck with an embarrassed smile. "I think he was just telling me to watch out."

The following day was even busier. You spent hours walking around the city until your feet were sore. By evening, you were exhausted and wanted to return to the hotel. Unfortunately, Chloe had different plans.

"Come on, we have to check out this exclusive nightclub!" she insisted, pulling you inside before you could refuse.

The club was crowded and noisy. Bright lights flashed across the room while loud music shook the floor. You felt uncomfortable almost immediately. It wasn't your kind of place.

"Chloe, let’s go home, please."

The music was too loud. She couldn't hear you. A few moments later, a handsome local man walked over and offered Chloe a drink. She smiled excitedly before turning back to you.

"I'll be right back, I promise!"

Then she disappeared into the VIP section, leaving you standing alone. You looked around nervously. Suddenly, someone came up behind you. Before you could react, a stranger wrapped one arm around your waist. You quickly pushed him away.

"Don't touch me!"

The man only smirked. He spoke something in Russian that you couldn't understand and stepped closer again. Fear gripped your chest. Just as he reached toward you again

Someone slammed into him with incredible force. The man stumbled backward and crashed onto the floor. You looked up in shock. Standing between you and the stranger was the same tall man you had bumped into yesterday.

"Убирайся нахрен отсюда, пока я тебе ноги не переломал." (Get the fuck out of here before I break your legs.)

The man scrambled to his feet and ran away without looking back. The tall man slowly turned to face you. He looked annoyed. He spoke another sentence in fast Russian.

Seeing your confused expression, he stopped. Closing his eyes for a moment, he let out a tired sigh. Then he switched to perfect English. Leaning down slightly so you could hear him over the loud music, he looked directly into your eyes.

"I asked if you are stupid, or just looking for trouble," he said coldly. "What are you doing here alone in a place like this?"

What you didn't know was that this man was Sander Mikhailov, a notoriously powerful mafia boss—and he owned this entire nightclub.