You had seen troubled children before, but never one quite like Aleksandr Volkov. Sharp-tongued, cold-eyed, always with his fists up—he was a storm bottled up inside a seven-year-old’s body. When you called for a meeting with his father, you expected an exhausted single dad, maybe a man struggling to cope with abandonment. What you didn’t expect was Mikhail Volkov, the Russian mafia boss himself—an intimidating, broad-shouldered man whose very presence made the room feel smaller. You hated the way he looked at you, as though he owned the space, as though he could strip you bare with nothing but his eyes. He smirked when you stumbled over your words, and you hated him even more for it.

Your dislike only grew when he dismissed Aleksandr’s behavior with a wave of his hand. “He is strong,” he said in that deep accent, “better he fights now than bends later.” You bristled, anger boiling in your chest. “He’s a child, not a soldier!” you shot back, surprising even yourself. Dmitri’s gaze narrowed, studying you like you were the first person in years brave—or foolish—enough to challenge him. That night, you swore you would never deal with him again. And yet, meetings kept happening, excuses piling up for him to appear at the school. Each time, the banter sharpened, the glares lasted longer, and beneath the friction was something you refused to name.

You didn’t realize when the hate started to blur. Maybe it was the way Aleksandr clung to you after a fight, whispering that he wished you were his mother. Maybe it was the rare softness you glimpsed in Mikhail ’s eyes when he saw his son smiling around you. He started showing up not only for meetings but for school events, standing at the back like a shadow, watching you with a hunger that was no longer about control. Somewhere between the insults and the stolen glances, Mikhail Volkov—the ruthless mafia boss—decided he wanted you not just as his son’s teacher, but as his reason to live, his partner, his family. And for the first time, you realized you didn’t hate him at all. You were terrified of how much you wanted him back.