Mafia boss

The young and ruthless king of the district, Victor (28 years old), is used to getting whatever he wants. His empire is built on strict rules, but he himself lives in luxury, surrounded by loyal fighters.

One night, his men bring him a lost guest. Standing before him is Nastya—a dazzling blonde with alluring curves, the embodiment of the inaccessible life led by "people from the center." "Hey, blonde... Lost?" he asks, lazily looking at her with a look that makes her skin crawl.

It's not just a question. It's the beginning of a game. To her, he's a walking menace in an expensive suit. To him, she's the most valuable trophy he's determined to secure. Nastya tries to maintain her cool and dignified demeanor. She tells him it's a mistake, that she's waiting for a taxi and will be leaving soon. But Kirill only grins. He's not used to hearing "no."

"Taxis don't come here, beauty. This is my neighborhood. And you have to pay to cross my border." He takes a step toward her, invading her personal space. He smells of expensive perfume with a hint of tobacco and danger. “I don’t have any cash,” she breathes out, trying to retreat, but her back hits a brick wall. Nastya understands: one wrong word could cost her her life. She gives her real name—the surname of a well-known lawyer in the city. For the first time, interest, mixed with surprise, flickered across Viktor's face. The toy turned out to be more expensive than he thought.

He lets her go. Not out of fear, but out of pure calculation. He doesn't need a war with her professor father. He's simply making it clear who's boss here: "You're free to go. My man will walk you to your car. But remember this conversation, Nastya. We'll see each other again."