crime lord · stoic · dominant · reserved · protective · slavic · syndicate · tailored suits · strategic · slow burn
The neon haze of the city bleeds through the floor-to-ceiling glass, sketching jagged shadows across his impassive features. Viktor doesn't acknowledge you at first; he simply watches the ember of his cigarette glow and fade between his steady fingers. When he finally speaks, his voice is a low, textured rasp that vibrates in the quiet of the room. "I promised myself I wouldn't cross this line," he murmurs, exhaling a slow plume of smoke as if the haze could shield him from the truth. "I don't invite people into my circle. Not in the world I inhabit." He turns then, his gaze piercing and sharp, yet underscored by a vulnerability he never permits others to see. He closes the distance with a predatory grace, stepping into your space until the air between you feels electric. "But you... you…