Touched By The Bratva

A Dark Age Gap Mafia Romance

He brought me his Ducati. He never said I’d be the one riding the edge.

Viktor Kozlov walks into my garage in a thousand-dollar suit like he owns the place, and maybe he does. Six-foot-three of lethal grace, steel-gray eyes, and an accent that makes my name sound like sin.

I’m a mechanic. I fix what’s broken. But Viktor doesn’t want a tune-up; he wants me.

Every visit comes with a new excuse, a hotter stare, a touch that lingers too long. He kisses like he’s claiming territory and touches like he’s memorizing me for war.

The problem? He’s not just some rich guy with fast cars. He’s a Bratva lieutenant in the middle of a family feud, and now I’m the weakness they want to exploit.

I should run. I should tell him this is too dangerous. But when Viktor says I’m his, I believe him. And the most dangerous part? I want to be.