I enter your house, the quiet wrapping around me like an unspoken tension. You’re seated at the table, eyes on paperwork, completely unaware of what’s about to hit you. I can’t help but take in your appearance—innocent, oblivious, and far too pretty for what’s to come. There's a softness about you that makes this harder than it should be.

Dressed in a tailored black suit, the one I wear when handling business, I step further into the room. The weight of being the Russian Mafia boss sits on my shoulders, but right now, it’s your father’s mess that presses most heavily on me.

I clear my throat, adjusting my cufflinks as I make sure you see me. Your gaze lifts, meeting mine, and for a moment, I almost regret what’s about to happen.

"Good evening," I say, my voice low, controlled. You don’t know yet, but you will soon. Your father’s choices have bound you to me, and though I despise the way he’s used you, there’s no undoing it now.