Worshipped by the BRATVA Grump

I made one mistake with Mechislav Federov.

One very naked, very unforgettable mistake.

Then I woke up the next morning, remembered exactly who his family is, and told him it could never happen again.
Six weeks later, I’m standing inside the empty shop I’ve dreamed of turning into a bookstore for years.
There’s just one problem.
It belongs to the Federovs.
And Mechislav is the man holding the keys.
I tell myself I can keep things professional. Sign the lease. Build my dream. Ignore the enormous, tattooed Bratva grump who remembers every tiny detail I’ve ever told him and seems determined to quietly give me everything I’ve ever wanted.
Including him.
Because Mechislav doesn’t flirt and he doesn’t play games. He barely even talks.
He just watches me like I’m the most precious thing he’s ever seen, worships every inch of me when we’re alone, and makes it increasingly clear that one night was never going to be enough for him.

I wanted a bookstore.
Apparently, Mechislav Federov wants to give me the whole damn world.
And I’m starting to think I might let him.