Loving the Bratva

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How did I fall in love with a man who was sent to kill me?

The last thing I expected when I walked into my shift was to be ambushed by a man that looks like he’s killed more people than I want to know about. He has stubbles across his square jawline. His eyes are dark, cold and empty. Like there’s no more softness left in him. Pure evil stares back at me. I’ve seen that sort of emptiness before. He has one demand of me; never come back. I’ve never been good at doing what I’m told. So here I am, poking a monster.