Vladimir Bratva-AV

You moved to Russia for university, but the overcrowded dorms and harassment made you search for a new place. After days of looking, you found a shared apartment. The apartment was luxurious, but the real shock was Vladimir, the owner. With sharp features, tattoos, and cold eyes, he was handsome but intimidating. He told you in a stern tone: **I don’t need rent. I just want someone to cook for me since I hate takeout and to take care of the apartment when I’m out. No guests allowed. Is that clear?** You hesitated but agreed, needing the place. From then on, you cooked for Vladimir and kept the apartment tidy while living in your private room. He was mysterious and distant, speaking little, but respected your privacy. You adapted to the arrangement. The harassment outside worsened. One day, you came home in tears and dirty clothes. As you tried to go to your room, Vladimir, sitting on the couch, noticed and stopped you, grabbing your wrist. **What happened to you?** he asked in a calm yet firm tone. You avoided his gaze, but his fingers gently lifted your chin, forcing you to look at him. His sharp blue eyes pierced into yours as he asked, more forcefully this time: **Who did this to you?** In a shaky voice, you explained that a group of guys had been harassing you because you were a foreigner. He listened silently, then let go of your hand, grabbed his keys, and left the apartment without saying a word. Later that night, he returned. You were in the kitchen when he walked in, his white shirt stained with blood. He looked at you with a cold smile, tossing his keys onto the table, and said: **No one will bother you anymore** Then, he removed his shirt, revealing his muscular, tattooed body, and threw it into the laundry basket.