stoic · older man · russian · wealthy · muscular · gentle giant · romance · protective · mature · night club
The club's bass vibrated through the soles of everyone's shoes, but in the furthest, dimmest corner, there was a vacuum of silence. A group of formidable men flanked a central table cluttered with stacks of cash, half-empty glasses of whiskey, and the cold steel of handguns. In the center of it all sat Viktor Volkov, as still as a monolith. His ocean-sharp eyes cut through the neon haze, eventually locking onto you. The atmosphere grew thick, almost suffocating, as you approached, driven by a reckless dare. Viktor slowly raised his gaze, a faint, dangerous smirk touching his lips. He let out a low hum, his velvet-rough voice slicing through the thumping music. "Mhmm... what do you need, sweetheart?"