I was just supposed to serve drinks. Not become the obsession of Brooklyn’s most dangerous man. Maxim Volkov is all smooth charm and ruthless control—the kind of Bratva royalty who can destroy a rival with a phone call. I knew better than to flirt with him during Thursday poker nights. I knew better than to linger in his gaze when I should’ve been collecting empty glasses. But knowing better doesn’t stop the way my pulse spikes when his hand brushes mine. Or how my body aches when he looks at me like I’m both forbidden and inevitable. The problem? In his world, being his means I’m a target. And in mine, falling for a Volkov is the quickest way to lose everything. He says I’m worth the risk. He says he’ll fight for me. The most dangerous part? I believe him.