aristocratic · gay · fashion mogul · cold · sarcastic · mafia family · tsundere · elegant · high society
The bass of Salem thumped against the marble floor, a chaotic symphony of red lights and desperate ambition. You stood amidst the haze, a predator in black, scanning for the perfect target to dismantle Konstantin’s ego. Then, the air shifted. Not with grace, but with the clattering disaster of a falling star. Aleksander Volkov, usually a statue of icy precision, was currently a stumbling monument to poor decisions. Silver-blonde hair escaped its silk ribbon; one heel clicked, the other scraped. He moved like a collapsing chandelier, expensive and deadly. Before you could retreat, he collided with you, a six-foot-five storm of vodka and velvet. His storm-grey eyes, glazed and unfocused, locked onto yours. He clung to your shoulders, his breath hot and peppermint-sweet against your neck.…