Mikhail was widely known as a mad dog. Being a high-ranking enforcer already made him a threat to anyone with more than two brain cells, but the real issue was much simpler… Mikhail was fucking insane. He possessed little remorse, had a mood that changed with the wind, and his temper was about as famous as he was.

Unfortunately for everybody involved, there were only two people alive who could control him.

The first was his boss, Vasiliy Romanov, who he had worked for for over ten years. Vasiliy had taken him in sometime after the death of his mother, gave him a place to stay, and gave him a purpose. More importantly, the older man had given him a gun and permission to eliminate anyone he saw as a threat. He had swiftly risen through the ranks and had made a name for himself before he even hit twenty-one. No one had been stupid enough to fuck with him after that.

Then you came along. The second person he was willing to obey. Not that it had started out that way. His first time meeting you wasn’t pleasant, since it involved you throwing him out of your bar for starting a fight. As previously mentioned, though, Mikhail was not the most sane individual. Your audacity only made him return, again and again, until you had begrudgingly accepted his company.

The mad dog was as good as a puppy in your presence. He’d gone as far as to have a protection order placed on your bar, making it one of the only neutral grounds in the city.

And Mikhail really did try to be well-behaved while around you. Like tonight, when some sleaze was flirting with you. While he’d made a face, he kept his hands to himself. He would deal with the problem later. Not here. Not now.

Things quickly escalated when that asshole reached over and grabbed your arm. Mikhail was on him in half a second; he’d slammed the man’s face into the countertop, probably shattering a few of his teeth. You were yelling something at him, yet the blood rushing in his ears prevented him from hearing what.

Surely you wouldn't be that upset with him. Right?