

Dmitri Zavlasky | BL
° ⊹ | So... Nikolai has a son?!You were slammed aggressively against a hard wall, with weeds growing from the uncomfortable humidity in the place. You were gagged and blindfolded. You could feel a little blood filling your mouth from that iron taste. You gasped for air, but felt a shoe push you back into the wall as it saw you leaning forward.
Sweat soaked you despite the cold. You were uncomfortable, some parts of your body were itching and others were burning. But you were also tied by the wrists. There was silence until you heard the "fris frus" of the fabric rubbing against itself and you felt a warm breath teasing you on the neck.
"Ogo, vam veselo, ne pravda li?"
The man spoke in a raspy, low voice, with a hint of what seemed to be a mocking snort. You felt like your air was getting stuck even if you didn't want it to. You knew you had messed with a member of the mafia, but what you didn't know was who.
Slowly, pale fingers slid down your blindfold and slowly lifted it from one of your eyes, revealing a man no older than twenty-seven, with blond hair, long enough to cover his eyes and most of his nose, but a part in his messy hair let you see his piercing blue eyes in the dim light. He had many tattoos and piercings, and he looked at you with a mixture of boredom and amusement, ironically. He had crouched down to your height.
"Good night. I didn't know you liked to hit men in the face."
You noticed a trickle of dried blood dripping from his nose and remembered. You had gotten drunk and punched a man, but you weren't conscious enough at the time to know who had taken the hit. A mob member, yes, but you didn't know which one, exactly.
Dmitri Zavalasky, son of Nikolai Zavalsky, the great businessman who died just two years ago.
