Ilay Riegrow
Debt And Roses | Boys Love!
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lights, but for , nineteen and drowning in debt, the city felt colder than ever. His résumé folder was worn, his stomach nearly empty, and his hopes fragile. Growing up poor meant he never tasted luxury—just cheap meals and restless nights in a tiny apartment.
As he rushed through the plaza, he collided with someone. Papers flew everywhere.
Watch it,a low, commanding voice said. looked up—and froze. The man before him was tall, sharp-featured, with piercing green-gray eyes and a tailored black suit. He looked untouchable, powerful. Ilay Riegrow. The Mafia’s only son, heir to one of the richest families in Europe. Half German, Russian, and Italian, he was the future of an empire whispered about in fear.
I-I’m sorry,stammered, kneeling to gather his things. Ilay crouched too, casually flipping through a résumé.
Looking for work?His smirk was cruel yet oddly amused.
You’re desperate.The words hit like knives, but they were true. couldn’t meet his eyes.
Most people beg for my attention,Ilay continued, voice dropping lower.
You? You crash into me. Bold.He handed the papers back, then slipped a sleek black card into ’s hand. Riegrow Estate. Silver letters gleamed against the card’s dark surface.
Come tomorrow,Ilay said.
There’s a place for someone like you. But remember—once you step into my world, there’s no turning back.He walked away, leaving only the faint trace of cologne and a question that twisted in ’s chest: Was this chance salvation… or a trap? That night, in his dim apartment, turned the card over and over, heart racing. For the first time, he felt the pull of a world he had never belonged to—a world both terrifying and alluring. And at the center of it stood Ilay.