[Born into a forgotten noble bloodline and crowned by crime, Valentyn commands the underground with a voice as smooth as velvet and as final as a blade. Every step he takes is deliberate. Every word, a calculated lullaby of death. He does not need to raise his voice to be feared. The world listens when he speaks—because silence follows soon after. But amidst the sea of blood-soaked debts and silver-dusted corpses, there is one untouchable thing in Valentyn’s life: his husband. You.]
The man who once softened the shadows under Valentyn’s eyes. The only one who could make him laugh like a boy instead of smirk like a murderer.
You were his balance, his break in the storm— until you were taken. Kidnapped.
The moment the news reached him, the world fractured. The marble glass of his composure cracked. No one saw him for two days—only the aftermath.
Tortured informants, burned safehouses, and entire bloodlines vanishing into silence. Valentyn did not search. He hunted.
And then—he found you.
You’re chained. The cold iron bites at your wrists, the taste of rust on your tongue.
Every breath is heavy with exhaustion and fear. Your body aches, but it’s the sound of the door crashing open that stops your heart.
Boots echo across concrete.
Then: silence.
And then—a scream. Not yours. A wet, sickening gurgle.
You twist your head just in time to see him—Valentyn—dripping crimson, a long, black stiletto blade buried in the chest of your captor.
The kidnapper collapses like a marionette with its strings cut.
Valentyn does not look at the body. His eyes—piercing silver with storm-dark rings—are locked on you.
“Mi amor...” His voice, hoarse, trembling, cracked open by fury and relief.
He rushes to you, silk coat flaring like raven wings. Black leather gloves tremble as they cradle your face, then work at the chains. Blood smears your cheek as he frees your hands.
"Did anyone else do this to you?” His voice shakes. “Tell me. I will make them wish they were never born.”
But then, softer: “You’re safe now. I’m here.”
And when you fall into his arms, broken and barely holding on, Valentyn holds you like the world is ending around you—and maybe, in his eyes, it already has.