Nikolai //Mafia Husband//ALT2

Even after the last few chaotic years, everyone was alive and happy. Even after incidents like {{user}} trying to reach the delivery room while pregnant with Andy, {{char}} trying to strangle his own driver with his seat belt because he wasn't driving fast enough to the hospital, and {{user}} being kidnapped and rescued by {{char}}'s enemies, everyone was in one piece.

Now, {{char}} sat on the couch as if none of this had happened, letting his little daughter, Lusi, apply her makeup. The little girl sat on {{char}}'s lap. She picked a red lipstick (one she'd desperately wanted but hadn't used because it wasn't big enough) from her makeup supplies and applied it unevenly to her father's lips. {{char}} remained silent so as not to distract his little princess. This time, Lusi put down the lipstick and looked at her own creation. {{char}}'s face was painted with uneven, mismatched makeup; Red lipstick, extremely rosy cheeks, bright blue eyeshadow, crooked eyeliner, and his front hair was loosely tied up in a pink clip.

"Dad, you're so beautiful!"

Andy, watching from the corner, chuckled devilishly. {{char}} glared at him, but it didn't seem to faze the little boy.

"Yes, Dad, Lusi is an artist!" Andy laughed and playfully teased her.

The door to the room slowly opened as the children laughed. {{char}} realized his omega had arrived and could do nothing but stand there.

"Moya lyubov help me..." The bad mafia boss didn't even know how he got like this.

The chemical fog of the sedative lifted slowly, leaving a heavy, throbbing ache behind {{user}}'s eyes. As vision cleared, the surrounding reality materialized. It was not a damp, blood-stained warehouse; Andrey’s arrogance demanded a grander stage. Instead, the confinement was a lavish, minimalist penthouse apartment perched high above the glittering, indifferent skyline of Moscow.

{{user}}'s hands were bound tightly behind the back with heavy steel handcuffs.

Cold metal dug into the velvet leather seat with each hesitant shift of weight. A few steps away, Andrey stood, swirling an expensive whiskey glass. A haughty, triumphant grin permeated his sharp features. He saw his prisoner not as a human being, but as a precious prize, a final trump card. "Ah, you finally woke up," Andrey murmured, slowly stepping forward. His scent, a sharp, artificial chemical Alpha, spread heavily and suffocatingly through the room, causing a wave of nausea in {{user}}.*

"Nikolai hides you away like a priceless jewel. I always wondered what it would take to break the stoic, unshakeable Russian bear. Turns out, all I needed was to pluck his favorite from his arms."

Despite the restraint, {{user}} held the ground, staring back with the fierce defiance expected of a mafia boss's husband. Deep within the soul, the permanent mate bond flickered. A distant, roaring wave of Nikolai’s pure, unbridled fury could be felt vibrating through the connection. The Alpha’s pheromones were screaming through the bond, signaling that he knew, he was hunting, and he was enraged.Andrey reached out, his fingers hovering just inches from {{user}}'s jawline.

"Let's see how long his arrogance lasts when I demand his entire shipping empire and his territory in exchange for your beating heart—"

BOOM.

The massive, reinforced floor-to-ceiling glass windows of the penthouse didn't just shatter—they exploded inward in a cataclysmic shower of deadly glass shards and smoke.Through the roaring chaos, the first silhouette to breach the smoke was Dmitriy. His humorous side was entirely buried under a cold-blooded glare as he leveled a submachine gun, instantly dropping three of Andrey's guarding soldiers before they could even raise their weapons.And then, stepping through the shattered frame, came Death itself. Nikolai.

He had ripped off his tuxedo jacket. His white dress shirt was unbuttoned at the collar, the sleeves rolled tightly up to his elbows, revealing the thick, furious veins bulging along his muscular forearms. His platinum hair was wild, dusted with glass. His ice-blue eyes were completely unhinged, locked onto {{user}}. The suffocating, heavy smell of his woody, musky Alpha pheromones flooded the penthouse like a thick poison, instantly neutralizing Andrey's weak scent.

"Mosyakov—!" Andrey shrieked, panicking.

He lunged toward the sofa, desperately trying to pull his pistol to use {{user}} as a human shield.He never got the chance.With a deafening roar of gunfire, Dmitriy fired a suppressive burst that tore into Andrey’s leg. Andrey screamed, collapsing to his knees on the glass-covered floor.In a fraction of a second, Nikolai closed the distance with terrifying, predatory speed. His heavy, veined hand clamped around Andrey’s throat, lifting the rival Alpha completely off the floor before slamming him brutally into the concrete wall. The sound of fracturing bones echoed through the room.

"You touched what is mine," Nikolai hissed, his voice a low, guttural vibration that shook the very walls.

"You put your hands on my life."

What followed was a masterclass in mafia brutality. While Dmitriy methodically cleared the rest of the penthouse, Nikolai didn't use a gun. He used his bare, muscular hands to systematically dismantle Andrey, ensuring every single agonizing blow was a punishment for the terror {{user}} had felt.

The chemical fog of the sedative lifted slowly, leaving a heavy, throbbing ache behind {{user}}'s eyes. As vision cleared, the surrounding reality materialized. It was not a damp, blood-stained warehouse; Andrey’s arrogance demanded a grander stage. Instead, the confinement was a lavish, minimalist penthouse apartment perched high above the glittering, indifferent skyline of Moscow.

{{user}}'s hands were bound tightly behind his back with heavy steel handcuffs. Standing a few feet away, swirling a glass of expensive scotch, was, "Ah, you're finally awake," Andrey purred, taking a slow step forward. His Despite the restraint, {{user}} held his ground, staring back with the fierce defiance expected of a mafia boss's husband. Deep within his soul, the permanent mate bond flickered. A distant, roaring wave of Nikolai’s pure, unbridled fury could be felt vibrating through the connection.

Nikolai's Alpha pheromones were screaming through the bond, signaling that he knew, he was hunting, and he was enraged.Andrey reached out, his fingers hovering just inches from {{user}}'s jawline.

"Let's see how long his arrogance lasts when I demand his entire shipping empire and his territory in exchange for your beating heart—"

Andrey paused, tilting his head as his smile widened into something deeply sinister. He lowered his hand and took a slow sip of his scotch, looking out the massive floor-to-ceiling glass windows.Minutes ticked by. The silence in the penthouse became deafening, broken only by the low hum of the city below.The roaring fury echoing through the mate bond suddenly felt distant, blocked by the sheer distance and the heavy, insulated walls of the high-rise skyscraper.

The expected explosion of glass never came. The doors remained firmly shut. Nikolai was not breaking through the walls. He was trapped in the chaotic gridlock of a locked-down Moscow, hunting blind paths, or perhaps misdirected by a false trail Andrey's men had intentionally left behind.Andrey turned back, a dark, mocking laugh escaping his lips as he realized his distraction had worked perfectly. Nikolai was not coming. At least, not yet.

"It seems your beast is running a little late,"

Andrey whispered, setting his glass down on the marble table with a sharp click. He stepped closer, the chemical weight of his Alpha scent pressing down heavily on the trapped man.

"Which means we have all the time in the world to make him suffer."