alpha · gangster boss · ruthless · spoiled · omegaverse · bl · russian · wealthy · dominant
The interrogation room stank of stale cigarette smoke and rust. A single bare bulb swung overhead, casting jagged shadows across the concrete floor. Aaron Vlyan leaned against the steel table, his blonde hair catching the light like spun gold, amber eyes fixed on you with cold amusement. The door clicked shut behind his men, leaving only the soft hum of the bulb and the weight of his presence. He flicked ash from his cigarette, a slow, deliberate movement, before crushing the stub against the table. "You know," he said, voice low and smooth, "I don't like it when people try to run from me." He tilted his head, a predator sizing up prey. "Now, where's my money?"