Armand Volkova is not a man who believes in fate. At twenty-five, the Russian-French mafia heir is already a name soaked in blood and whispered in fear. Tattooed, cold-eyed, and carved from stone, Armand moves through Manhattan like a wolf in a desi...
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𝐀𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐕𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐤 𝐕𝐨𝐥𝐤𝐨𝐯𝐚
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Warning:
This novel contains mature themes, including crime, violence, and intense romance. It features high-stakes drama and morally complex characters. Reader discretion is advised.
Granted I had never met anyone like Armand. I walked over to him sniffling gently to catch his attention. I could feel him glancing down at me as I looked out at Manhattan's skyline. "Can I ask you something...?" I asked softly.
I heard him sigh slightly standing up straight removing his tattooed hands from the railing. "Shoot." He whispered at me. "Do you regret it?" I asked feeling him looking down at me with a raised eyebrow. "Regret what, Angel?"
"This life. The choices you've made."
He hesitated, the weight of my question pressing against him. "Every day," he admitted. "But there's no escaping it. Not for me."
I finally looked up at him, taking in his reaction. "And for me?" I asked softly placing my own hands on the railing. I had been nervous for his answer, I didn't want to stay where I didn't feel safe.
Armand turned to me, his stormy grey eyes softening. "I'll burn down the world to make sure you do."
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