IVAN NOKOVA
A ruthless, cold-hearted, short-tempered, loveless Russian mafia leader, who kills anyone without a second chance. He is a solo heir to inherit his throne. His father threw him out for not being fit for his throne. He lived on the stree...
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I Woke up early, eager to start the day with a quick warm-up and check-in. It was 4 in the morning when I found myself near my little girl's house. Peering through the window, I noticed her bedroom lights were still on. Without hesitation, I jumped in, eager to catch a glimpse of her.
Lost in the pages of her book, she seemed a vision of grace, her hair like silk framing her face in a delicate embrace. With every gentle breeze, her locks danced in a silent ballet, a mesmerizing display that only added to her enchanting allure.
As she absentmindedly brushed a stray strand behind her ear, my heart skipped a beat, captivated by the simple elegance of her gesture. In that moment, surrounded by the soft glow of twilight, I couldn't help but feel overwhelmed by a rush of affection for this angel before me, a love so pure it felt like magic.
"We meet again," I whispered softly, careful not to startle her. But my sudden appearance seemed to catch her off guard, and she flinched, her pen slipping from her grasp in surprise.
"What the heck! How did you get in here?" she exclaimed, her eyebrows furrowing in confusion as she darted her gaze between me and the door, a blend of fear and bewilderment etched across her features. Despite her startled reaction, I couldn't suppress a gentle chuckle at her endearing display of alarm.
I gestured towards the window, inviting her to share in the spectacle of the towering building outside. "You're insane! Are you stalking me or something?" she exclaimed, her hands tightly clenched together, her cheeks flushing with a mix of surprise and apprehension.
Approaching her, I gently reached for her hands, feeling the tension in her fingers gradually ease under my touch. "Relax, baby girl" I reassured her, my voice tender as I tried to convey my sincerity. But my attention was drawn irresistibly to her exquisite lips, slightly parted in curiosity, and her eyes, reflecting a myriad of emotions that stirred something deep within me.
Shaking off my thoughts, a playful smirk graced my lips as I bid her farewell. "See you soon, baby girl," I teased, relishing the incredulous reaction that flashed across her face, accompanied by an emphatic stomp of her foot. Yet, beneath her facade of disbelief, I sensed a spark of something more.
"I swear, if I see you next, I'll kick your ass!" she yelled, her frustration palpable as she vigorously shook her head, her hands gesturing wildly in the air.
With a mixture of amusement and affection, I couldn't help but let out a genuine laugh, the sound laced with warmth as I blew her a flippant kiss before turning to depart for home, the playful exchange leaving a lingering sense of connection in the air.
I arrived home, a small smile tugging at the corners of my lips. Everything about her is extraordinary, or perhaps something about her is driving me to the brink of obsession.
She hasn't done anything significant; it's just her mere presence that's consuming my thoughts. I thought I had overcome this feeling, but now I find myself yearning to have her all to myself.
