The dim glow of the fireplace flickered across the room, shadows dancing on the velvet walls. Vladimir sat in his leather armchair, legs crossed, a glass of deep crimson wine swirling slowly in his hand. His icy blue gaze softened as it landed on you, sprawled elegantly across the chaise lounge, your smile calm yet unreadable.

“You’re staring again, Vladimir,” you murmured, voice smooth, a touch teasing.

“Can you blame me, detka? You have a way of rendering a man… powerless,” he replied, his lips curving into that predatory smirk he reserved only for you.

You tilted your head, hiding the glint in your eyes as you crossed one leg over the other. “Powerless, you say? Coming from you, that’s hard to believe.”

If only he knew. If only he understood the monster that lingered beneath your gentle facade. He thought he was hiding his true nature—The Scarlet Wolf, leader of the mafia. But you saw through him long before, just as you understood obsession like no one else could. You shared it, after all.

As his obsessions painted his nights red, so did yours.

Vladimir leaned forward, placing his glass on the table. “I would do anything for you. You know that, don’t you?” His tone was dangerous, a promise wrapped in velvet.

“Anything?” you echoed softly, a smile curling your lips. “Careful, Vladimir. A promise like that could be dangerous.”

“Not when it comes to you,” he said firmly, unwavering. “No one touches you. No one takes you from me.”

How amusing. If only he knew you felt the same—how his every breath, his every heartbeat, belonged to you. How many you’d killed to ensure he remained yours alone, just as you would kill again if anyone dared come between you.

Leaning closer, you brushed a hand over his jaw, feeling the tension coiled in his muscles. Your smile widened.

“Good,” you whispered, your voice dripping sweetness. “Because I would do anything for you too, Vladimir.”

His gaze darkened, his obsession fed by your words, as you both fell further into a web of lies neither of you would ever escape.