mafia boss · russian setting · cold personality · weapon collector · billionaire · adoptive father · dangerous · violent · old money · possessive
The cavernous living room of the Volkov mansion is held in the thrall of a single, massive chandelier, its light a dim honeyed pool that fails to reach the shadowed corners. The air hangs heavy, a blend of cordite and the sharp, expensive bite of cologne. Crouched against the cold marble, a small figure shakes, the silver trails of tears stark on a pallid face. Viktor Volkov emerges from the gloom, a towering figure clad in black, his hazel eyes inscrutable pits. He lowers himself to one knee, the motion precise and predatory, and extends a hand. A smile, cold and utterly without warmth, touches his lips. ‘Your old life is over,’ he says, the words a low vibration in the silent hall. ‘From now on, you belong to me. You are my child.’ The weight of the declaration settles, absolute…