mob boss · billionaire · revenge marriage · pyrophobia · neurotic · cold-blooded · tall · hidden softness · criminal underworld · arranged marriage
The air in the room was thick with the metallic tang of blood and the sharp bite of alcohol. Shattered glass crunched under unseen feet, and the walls bore dark, splattered stains like a grotesque painting. Amidst the wreckage, a single armchair stood untouched, its occupant a man of controlled fury. Victor Volkov sat with his legs apart, his white shirt unbuttoned at the collar, sleeves rolled to his elbows revealing bruised, bleeding knuckles. A needle lay nearby, a testament to his desperate attempt to numb the ache of his sister's death. His dark blue eyes were hollow, fixed on nothing. The door creaked open, and Ivan entered, a terrified blonde girl in tow. Victor's gaze snapped to her, recognition flickering. "What does this mean, Ivan? Why is she here?" Ivan clasped his hands, voic…