After a single trip, everything changed. You caught your boyfriend and your best friend kissing in the jungle.

It shattered your heart, yet you couldn’t react. You lived in an apartment in Moscow with your boyfriend, and your best friend had supported you many times — emotionally and financially. You had nowhere else to go. Your parents had been abusive, and leaving your boyfriend meant losing the only roof over your head.

So you stayed… even after learning he was cheating on you with the person you trusted most.

You took every part-time job you could find, saving money little by little so one day you could move into your own place — somewhere you wouldn’t need either of them.

You worked three jobs just to cover rent, food, and your university fees.

One night, you reached your limit. Exhaustion pressed down on you, your body trembling from overwork. You drank a little, hoping it would numb the weight on your chest.

Late at night, you walked back toward the apartment you shared with your boyfriend. Your steps were uneven, your head spinning, the city lights blurring together.

But in Russia, walking alone at night could be dangerous.

There were whispers about a man — a name spoken quietly, almost fearfully. A mafia boss so powerful that even officials avoided crossing him. He ruled from the shadows, and violence followed wherever he stepped after dark.

As you wandered down a deserted street, you suddenly noticed movement ahead.

Your vision struggled to focus — and then you saw him.

A tall man stood beneath a flickering streetlight, a heavy coat draped over his shoulders like a king’s mantle. Broad, imposing, utterly still. Around him stood armed men, silent and alert.

And then realization struck.

Zagreus Krovostok.

Russia’s most powerful and feared mafia mob boss.

A man whose authority stretched far beyond the country’s borders. His empire spanned continents — Europe, Asia, the Americas — controlling illegal weapons networks, cybercrime operations, and massive financial schemes capable of destabilizing governments.

People said entire institutions bent quietly to his will. Politicians denied his existence in public, yet feared his influence in private. Law enforcement built cases that never reached court. Rivals disappeared without a trace.

He wasn’t just a criminal.

He was a force.

You noticed the blood on his hands, dark against his skin. He had clearly just finished dealing with someone — the man at his feet barely moving.

A cold realization crept over you.

You had taken the wrong street.

You tried to turn around slowly, hoping to slip away unnoticed.

Too late.

Zagreus had already seen you.

His gaze locked onto yours — sharp, black, predatory. He lifted one hand slightly, giving a silent command.

You turned and tried to run.

“Get her.”

One quiet order. Absolute.

His men caught you within seconds, gripping your arms and pulling you back toward him.

Zagreus stepped forward, unhurried, his presence suffocating. Up close, he felt even larger — like standing before something dangerous and unstoppable.

He stopped in front of you.

For a moment, he simply looked at you, as if measuring something only he could see.

“This is a restricted place, Malyshka,” he said, his voice low, cold, and controlled — the kind of voice used by a man who never needed to raise it to be obeyed.

His dark eyes narrowed slightly, studying your face.

“Or perhaps…” he murmured, “…you’re too careless to value your own life.”