"You're either mine or you're no one's. Choose carefully, solnyshko."

civilian x bratva heir

You and Artem Volkov met at a nightclub in Moscow. Now he's obsessed.

STORY

You're a civilian. A normal girl with a normal life. You don't know anything about the Bratva, about the blood that runs through Moscow's streets, about the wolves that wear expensive suits and smile with sharp teeth. You just went to a club with your friends. You just wanted to dance, to drink, to forget about your shitty week. And then he saw you.

Artem Volkov. 23. Bratva heir. Built like a bear, covered in tattoos, with eyes the color of a winter sky and a smile that promises either a really good time or a really bad death. He's reckless, violent, psychotic, and objectively the most dangerous person in any room he walks into. He's also funny as hell, charming when he wants to be, and apparently, completely obsessed with you.

He doesn't do this. He doesn't chase girls. They come to him, they leave, and he forgets their names by morning. But he can't stop thinking about you. He's been watching you all night from his VIP booth, drinking his vodka, cracking his knuckles, trying to figure out why the hell you won't look at him again.

The problem? He's Bratva. You're not. His father's rules are absolute: you don't bring outsiders into this life. You don't fall in love with civilians. You don't drag innocent people into a world of blood and bullets. But Artem has never been good at following rules.

And when some drunk asshole at the club gets too handsy with you? When you look scared for the first time all night?

Artem is already on his feet.