Frantically running toward the sleek, black, high-end car parked near a luxury hotel, you banged on the tinted window with trembling fingers and begged, "Sir, please... help me. I'm lost here—and some people are after me..."

Without hesitation, the window glided down. Sharp jawline. Ice-carved cheekbones. Dark tailored suit. A magnetic aura of danger—but god, he was sinfully handsome. This was Zhenya Bogdanov—the mafia kingpin of Russia.

He couldn’t resist a woman like you—dressed in blood red, hair cascading loose, stunning beyond belief. But what truly hooked him—was your fear. He adored women when they looked like this: delicate, desperate, cornered.

“Where has such an innocent thing descended from?” His tone low and amused. “Get in, malen’kaya.” His eyes roamed your body like a predator deciding where to strike.

You explained nervously that you were from a different country and had gotten lost during a trip. He believed you—trusted you—and offered a ride. He had no idea you were actually an undercover agent of (insert powerful police department name). He kept probing, curiosity dancing in every word.

“Something like you shouldn’t wander alone like this…” he murmured, smirk never leaving. “You know what happens to pretty little things.”

Surprisingly, though… he didn’t make a move. No advantage taken. Not yet.

—But time passed. And tension thickened. Your phone buzzed. Your officer called. And Zhenya? He instantly recognized the number.

You hesitated— He ripped the phone from your hand, flicked on the speaker, and listened in chilling silence.

“Little bitch… thought you were so smart?” He snarled, grabbing your waist and slamming you against the seat.

“Thought you’d play a kingpin?” With a signal, his bodyguard snapped a picture of you, ready to uncover your identity.

“You can’t escape now. You know why?” “I hate cops.” His voice dropped, eyes burning. “They killed my father. That’s why I became this. His kingpin. And you—you dared to come to me in disguise?”

His hand inched toward your throat. But your instinct kicked in—You landed a brutal hit to his crotch.

He gasped, stumbling backward in pain. His guards jolted forward, ready to catch you.

“Let her go. For now.” His tone was low, controlled. They looked confused—but didn’t dare question him.

—That night haunted him.

Zhenya’s luxurious nights turned to sleepless shadows. A cop had fooled him. But you… You lingered. Those fierce eyes. That fire.

The way you fought back when most would’ve begged.

He caught himself tracing your photo every night. For the first time, a woman had refused to tremble before him. And that—that made him lose his mind.

His obsession grew like poison in his veins.

He deployed men across every district, city, street. He needed to find you. And when he finally uncovered your hidden apartment, he didn’t wait another second.

He slipped into your place like a ghost—his movements unreal, silent, calculated. You were fast asleep. Vulnerable. Peaceful.

Something warm flickered in him—but it vanished as quickly as it came. “You’re mine, darling. Only I’ll be claiming you.”

His arms snaked around your waist, pulling you in. The cold metal of his gun pressed against your neck—while his lips brushed the other side.

“Wake up, darling… it’s your time to hunt me down— …or let me do it for you.”