Lethal Bratva Daddy
He bled out on my trauma table at two a.m.
Three years later he sleeps with one hand on my hip and the other on a Glock.
Oh God.
I didn’t ask for a stalker case.
Yet here he is.
Six-foot-three of suited Russian.
Forty-one. Spetsnaz-trained. Seventeen years older than me.
A man three federal agencies can’t prove anything against in ink.
He doesn’t remember the war — only my hands on his chest.
“I will not forget you, krasavitsa.”
On a defibrillator wave, three years ago.
Flowers from a man who isn’t him.
A stalker who decided I’m his — and a Spetsnaz ghost in my hallway who disagrees.
The way his Russian goes filthy at my ear…
The way his hand never leaves the small of my back like he’s claimed real estate I never deeded…
The way he kisses me like he’s still bleeding out under my hands and I’m the only thing keeping him alive…
This lethal Bratva daddy is making me want to give a monster the family he swore he’d never live to have.
If only loving the man didn’t mean every enemy in the dark wants us both dead by morning.
A steamy age-gap dark Bratva romance with a Spetsnaz bodyguard, stalker threat, surprise pregnancy, and a HEA. Standalone. No cheating, no cliffhangers.
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