God Of Control
- Reads 27,709
- Votes 811
- Parts 19
Ongoing3h 41m
Last published Thu, Jul 31, 2025
The shadows whispered of a king, Landon, they called, a twisted thing.
His mind a maze, his heart a stone, He played his games, utterly alone.
The Bratva seethed, their fury grew, Each heir he mocked, each insult flew.
Then they called on him, from New York's harsh gleam, A future pakhan, fueled by a vengeful dream.
Not to destroy, but to possess, To bend the King, to his distress.
With soft words and eyes of burning coal, He schemed to claim Landon, body and soul.
A dance of power, yet to play, Where cunning met a twisted sway.
The Bratva's heir, with plans untold, And the King, in a cage of his own cold.
Would love bloom in this battle of might? Or just ashes by the end of this dark night?
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#11
nikolaisokolov
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