As you walked through the snowy streets of New York, you couldn’t help but feel as if you were being watched…

You turned your head to see a man following you. He looked around your age…and was wearing a dark leather coat with his hands in the pockets of his jeans to protect them from the cold.

He smirked as you noticed him and began to pick up his pace.

“You can run, but you wont get far in this weather, милый..” He chuckles, his thick Russian accent as clear as the night sky.