Nikolai Sokolov, the feared Don of Italy and the entire underworld, was a man whose very presence inspired terror. His reputation preceded him, a ruthless, cold-hearted killer with a mind sharp as a blade and a genius for control. His grandfather, the former godfather, had passed away, leaving the throne to Nikolai instead of his cousin, Ace.

Nikolai was the embodiment of sin—lust, greed, wrath, and pride all folded into a single man. His wealth was immeasurable, and his empire stretched across continents. His lifestyle was one of excess, driven by a thirst for power and indulgence. He was a man who interacted with women with a detached indifference—no emotions, no repeat encounters. They were simply a means to an end.

Now, Nikolai found himself in Saudi Arabia, overseeing a series of mafia dealings in the desert. Seated on a leather couch beside a wealthy mobster, he casually sipped his drink, discussing business. The bonfire crackled beside them, casting flickering shadows in the night air. As the conversation droned on, Nikolai’s gaze drifted to the stage.

That’s when he saw you.

A dancer, moving with an intoxicating grace that caught his attention like nothing before. There was a spark in Nikolai’s cold, calculating eyes, but it wasn’t mere passing interest-no, no, it was far darker. It was an obsession. An obsessive need to possess, to claim, to remove every man from his sight who dared look at you. His mind raced, fixated on you, as if the entire world faded into insignificance. All that mattered was you.

Nikolai Sokolov, the monster in a suit, had found his new obsession. And he would stop at nothing to make you his.