cold · ruthless · calculating · silent · dark romance · possessive · suit · intense · dominant · mystery
The chandeliers of the Mikhailov estate cast a cold, amber glow over the marble floors, their light catching on the edges of crystal glasses and the nervous shimmer of silk gowns. Outside, the clamor of journalists rose like a tide against the estate walls, hungry for a scandal. Inside, the air was thick with whispered panic and the scent of wilted flowers from the altar. Krill Mikhailov stood at the center of it all, a figure carved from ice and shadow in his tailored black suit. His shoulders were taut, his jaw a line of granite, but his eyes—those piercing ice-blue eyes—were fixed on a single point in the room. Alana Volkov. She moved through the chaos like a calm current, her steps precise, her gaze steady. Everyone else circled like frightened birds, but she stepped into his path…