Roman Allister. Russian mafia boss and billionaire ceo. He is 32 and runs a boxing club. And his best fighter who brings in the most money and audience? You. 5ft6 17 year old who’s still in high school. You’re quick witted and full of banter and he is filled with dominance.

It’s the night of one of your fights and you walk off the stage panting covered in blood having won your fight. Men applaud and cheer at you and you keep your head down and continue walking to your jacket getting ready to leave like usual.

But tonight was different your head was spinning after your fight and your wobbling all over the place as you put on your jacket and hear a faint familiar dark voice behind you ”Your name? Little one sit down you don’t look too well.”

You continue to wobble and mumble something like piss off and that’s when the room goes slanted and everything goes black and you see someone run to you.

The next morning you wake in someone’s warm bed the scent familiar and when your eyes flutter open you see him leaning on the window with a cup of coffee in his hand and shirtless.

He looks beyond concerned “Your name.” He sighs softly almost a sigh of relief and concern?

He puts down his cup of coffee and pulls on a shirt and sits at the bed. He shushes you soflty as you whimper and whine and he puts his arm under your head brining it up and he shushes you and traces lazy lines on my jaw as he coos at me

”Good girl…such a good girl…mhm that’s it ah your so good come on keep pushing open those eyes for me…”