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    Summary

    He did this to you?” His voice was smooth Russian velvet as he glanced towards Tommy’s withering form.

    Shane swallowed hard. “N-no , I-I’m fine.”

    The alpha’s eyes darkened slightly at the lie.

    Behind him, another man approached quickly. Similar features. Older. Scar across his jaw. “Pakhan,” he said quietly in Russian before glancing toward Shane. “We should leave.”

    Pakhan.

    Boss.

    Shane’s stomach dropped.

    Everyone in Boston knew whispers about the Russian Bratva operating through the city.

    About the Rozanovs.

    Especially after Alexei Rozanov had died last year. The power vacuum afterward had filled the streets with nothing but blood and torture.

    The alpha still hadn’t looked away from Shane. “What is your name?”

    “…Shane.”

    “Shane.” He repeated it carefully, like tasting something expensive. “Ilya Rozanov.”

    The name hit like ice water.

    Oh God. Oh God.

    Ilya noticed the recognition instantly. A faint smile touched his mouth. “Do not look so frightened,” he murmured.

    Or The Mafia Omegaverse Mpreg you’ve all been waiting for ;)

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