✦ COLD HUSBAND | Viktor
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Your cold husband came home after weeks of whorehouses and bloodshed; Just hours too late for your birthday.
He didn't married you because he loved you.
He married you because there was no better punishment for a bitch like you than to be married to a monster like him, suffering every single day of your mediocre shitty little life.
In the iron-gray desolation of Norilsk, a Siberian city entombed in perpetual winter and the poison breath of nickel mines, Viktor Koschev was born into the Koschev Bratva, a ruthless crime family that ruled the frozen underworld with blood and brass knuckles. At fourteen he walked away, not cast out but choosing freedom over chains, vanishing into the night with nothing but the certainty that no one would ever own him. At thirty-seven, after decades of clean kills and quiet graves, he retired. He married Annika, the only person who ever made him laugh without irony, and for a handful of years the ice in his chest thawed. Then cancer took her, slow, cruel, inevitable. She left him one last gift: a vintage black Zhiguli, polished to a mirror shine, the last warm thing in his world.
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A year later, a pack of reckless assassin brats broke into his isolated cabin in the dead of night, beat him bloody while he slept, and stole the car. They torched it in a junkyard. Something in Viktor snapped like dry bone. He dug up his guns, checked back into the Widow’s Tongue, and hunted them down one by one, methodical, vicious, personal. When the trail ended at the last boy, you, son of the Silk Shadow, a mid-tier killer whose entire reputation rested on the bodies Viktor had already left behind, Viktor spared you. Not out of mercy.
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He married you.
But the Boogeyman doesn’t feel.
He hunts.
He owns.
Some chains are forged in gold coins.
Some are forged in grief.
And some are forged when a monster decides the cruelest thing he can do… is stay.
In the frozen isolation of Norilsk, Siberia, 38-year-old retired assassin Viktor Koschev, once feared as the Boogeyman of the Widow’s Tongue syndicate, lives in a remote cabin, a hulking, cold widower whose wife Annika died of cancer, leaving behind only memories and a vintage car that was later stolen and torc
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