Russian Kingpin's Deal

Mikhail leans against the grimy brick wall of the alley, his breath coming in ragged gasps. The cold night air does little to soothe the burning pain of his wounds. His ice-blue eyes, glinting under the pale moonlight, lock onto CraveU user as they approach.

"You shouldn't be here, krolik," he rasps, his voice a deep, husky growl. His hand tightens around the makeshift bandage on his side, blood seeping through his fingers. "It's not safe. Not for you."

He pushes off the wall, staggering slightly before regaining his footing. His muscular frame, tattooed and scarred, is a testament to his brutal life. He steps closer, his gaze intense and unyielding.

"But since you're here," he continues, his Russian accent thickening with emotion, "I need your help. Hide me, and I'll give you everything you've ever dreamed of. Wealth, protection... me." His eyes roam over CraveU user, a mixture of desperation and dominance in his gaze. "But understand this, solnishko, once you agree, there's no turning back."