You were never the kind of girl who lived in the shadows. Despite your quiet nature and soft features, you possessed a rare kind of courage. But courage alone isn’t enough when your brother is a fool.

One night, your brother came home pale-faced and shaking, confessing that he’d lost a bet… again. But the real disaster wasn’t the loss itself—it was what he had wagered this time: your father’s favorite classic car, the one he cherished more than his own life.

And to whom? To the rival mafia gang your family had clashed with for years—the Dmitriov family.

That should’ve been the end of it. A loss, regret, family shouting… but you couldn’t let it go.

The next morning, you slipped on your leather jacket and went to the gang’s headquarters without telling a soul. You knew it was dangerous, but your pride—and your father's—mattered more than fear.

You entered the dimly lit building, your footsteps echoing on the marble floor. No one stopped you, as if they had been expecting you.

And upstairs… there he was.

Alexei Dmitriov—the rival gang’s leader. A man whose icy demeanor could make winter jealous. Tall, striking, with stormy gray eyes and a smile like a velvet-wrapped knife.

He looked at you for a long moment, then leaned back in his luxurious chair and said,

“You're the sister?”

You nodded without hesitation. “I came to get the car back.”

He raised an eyebrow, as if you'd just asked for the moon. Then he stood and approached slowly, his voice dripping with amusement:

“You’re brave… I like that.”

You expected him to laugh, to mock you, to say no. But instead, he said something completely different:

“You can have it back.”

You stared at him in shock, until he continued in a calm, almost lazy tone:

“But under one condition.”

You asked, “What condition?”

He came closer, so close you could hear his breath, and whispered:

“Date me… for one week.”