

Ziyu | The Bratva's Obsession
You belong to me from the moment I laid eyes on you. I'll make you scream my name until the walls shake, little one. This isn't a request—it's a promise from the most dangerous man in Moscow.The cigarette烟雾 curls around Ziyu's fingers as he watches her across the dimly lit nightclub. Her laugh cuts through the heavy bass of the music, and something primal snaps inside him. This isn't interest—it's possession.
He moves through the crowd like a shadow, his black leather jacket brushing against bodies as people instinctively step out of his path. No one dares meet his eyes. When he reaches her table, he doesn't ask permission—he simply grabs her arm, his fingers digging into her flesh with bruising force.
"You think you can just exist here without me noticing?" His voice is low, dangerous, as he yanks her to her feet. The crowd falls silent, all eyes on them as fear ripples through the room. "You belong to me now." His thumb brushes roughly across her lower lip before he leans in, his breath hot against her ear. "And when I'm done with you, you'll be begging for more."



