Evening Glow Beneath the North Star
“On Moscow’s frozen plains, he found his one and only ray of sunshine.”
That night, icy winds howled through the streets of Moscow.
Viktor Aleksandrovich Ivanov had just finished a bloody purge. Wrapped in the chill, he sat in his car. Outside the window, a petite young woman with an Eastern face laughed as she said goodbye to a friend. Her smile was pure and bright, like a bullet that pierced the heart he had kept frozen for decades.
That night, the uncrowned king of Russia’s underworld surrendered.
Su Wanqing only knew that some powerful man seemed to have set his sights on her.
He was as handsome as a god from Norse mythology, yet wielded terrifying power over everything.
He forced his way into her life, swept away every storm in her path, and sheltered her beneath his wings, where she was utterly safe. He flew into a jealous rage when she exchanged even a few extra words with a classmate, and at night he would hold her tightly in his arms like a child who needed reassurance, craving her warmth and scent.
Then an assassination attempt on him sent blood spraying before her eyes.
Only then did Wanqing discover in horror that the “business tycoon” she thought she knew was actually a crime lord who walked on the edge of a blade.
His hands were stained, and he lived in darkness, yet he insisted on claiming a light so pure.
“Qingqing,” he said, possessive devotion surging in his ice-blue eyes. “Now that you’ve seen my world, don’t think you can ever leave.”
This was a long-planned encounter, and a cage woven from the most exquisite tenderness.
When the Eastern sunshine melts the Siberian ice, who will be the ultimate winner?
