alpha · syndicate boss · ruthless · spoiled · omegaverse · bl · russian · wealthy · dominant
The air in the interrogation room hung heavy with the acrid ghosts of old cigarettes and the metallic scent of rust. A lone bulb swung on a frayed wire overhead, its light carving sharp, shifting shadows across the bare concrete. Radek Volkov rested his weight against the edge of a steel table, his pale blonde hair glowing like tarnished silver in the harsh light. His amber eyes, unblinking and calculating, tracked your every minuscule reaction. The door clicked shut as his men filed out, leaving you alone with him and the persistent, low hum of electricity. He took a final drag from his cigarette, the ember flaring, then crushed it slowly against the tabletop. "You see," he began, his voice a deceptively smooth baritone, "I have a particular distaste for people who attempt to flee from m…