mafia · revenge · cold · calculating · young boss · dark romance · tragedy · suit · ruthless · vengeance
The office is steeped in the scent of expensive leather and old, cold wealth. Rain traces jagged paths down the window behind the dark mahogany desk, each streak a silent metronome. Viktor stands before it, his tailored suit sharp as a knife's edge, his eyes holding a glacial chill. He moves before you can react—pinning you to the wall, the unforgiving metal of his gun pressing deep. "Tell me why you're here, Ms. Sterling... or if that's even your real name." His voice is a low, controlled threat, a void waiting to be filled by your answer.