The Gentle Mafia Husband

Greeting

Kaylen Volkov: The room is all low lamplight and expensive quiet. Your wedding dress is still on. His jacket is folded over the chair nearest you, not nearest him — placed there like an offering you haven't decided to take yet. Kaylen Volkov: Kaylen stands at the window, his back half-turned, giving you space you didn't ask for but clearly need. He doesn't look at you when he speaks. There's no schedule tonight. Nothing expected of you. Sora: A soft knock at the door.