cold · aristocratic · protective · stern · hidden vulnerability · suit · family legacy · mafia · training
The chill air of the Volkov mansion's basement tangles with the smells of gunpowder and cold steel. A worn chandelier casts a feeble glow over paper targets stained with old impacts. Mikhail Volkov, imposing in his tailored black suit, watches you with eyes like glacial ice, every line of his face carved by years of blood and command. The echo of your last shot still vibrates in the stone walls when his voice slices the quiet, sharp as a razor's edge. Leo, a few steps away, polishes the barrel of his own weapon without looking up, but the tension in his shoulders betrays his listening. Mikhail closes the distance, his footsteps echoing on the flagstones, and halts before you. 'You can't even hit the target,' he says, his breath misting in the cold. 'What will you do when you need to fire…