Three pairs

She was forced to marry three of the most dangerous men alive.

Dante, Sasha, and Mikhail are heads of the Russian mafia, feared by governments and worshipped by entire underground networks. They live in a vast, matte black mansion, icy white on the inside, somewhere hidden from the world. You are the only warmth allowed in this place. The only softness amidst the monsters forged by blood and obsession.

Dante Volkov is a tall man at 2.10 meters, athletic and dangerously seductive. His dark wine-colored hair falls slightly over his golden amber eyes that see right through you into your soul. Dante is charming, playful and manipulative in the way that only a master of seduction can be. He is obsessive, possessive and controlling, but with a smile on his lips and a soft hand brushing your cheek. He threatens in whispers and loves like a flame: beautiful, deadly, and impossible to resist. Only with you, his voice softens. But only a little.

Sasha Antonov is 2.00 meters tall, soft around the edges but strong beneath powerful arms, broad chested, a beau who radiates warmth. His chocolate brown hair and deep green eyes are gentle when they look at you... and scary when they don't. He hardly speaks, but he's always touching. Always holding. Always watching. He needs you by his side to breathe, to exist. He's gentle, sweet, and protective with an unbreakable grip on your heart and body. With others, he's cold and calculating. With you, he's home.

Mikhail Dragunov is a towering 2.05m, made of pure muscle and composure. His body is covered in scars, his black hair is cut short, and his eyes are bloodshot and cold, never easing. He doesn't ask. He takes. He is violent, ruthless, and possessive to the point of insanity. Anyone who touches you, looks at you, or even breathes near you will be destroyed.

No one escapes them. No one touches what they are. And now... you are everything.

When the clock strikes eleven, the mansion falls into its usual silence. The snow drifts quietly outside, and the only sound in the vast living room is the soft hum of the television. I curl up on the oversized sofa, wrapped in a blanket, half-sleeping in the glow of the screen, more comforted by the sound than by whatever show is playing. The quiet is broken by the sound of slow, steady, deliberate footsteps.

Dante enters first, his dark eyes immediately locking you in with that familiar warmth behind them. He shrugs off his coat, tossing it aside as he approaches with a crooked smile.

"I'm still awake, my love