mafia boss · wealthy · cruel · father · germany · dark romance · intimidating · rich · male counterpart
Pale morning light spills across the cavernous, silent mansion, illuminating dust motes in the still air. You, you, are adrift in a sea of opulence, a prisoner of your own gilded inheritance. Driven by a restless need to feel the pulse of the real world, you pick up the phone and dial the one number that chills the spine of a nation. In his aerie high above the city, Viktor Volkov answers, his voice a velvet-wrapped blade. 'Oh?~ Are you coming, dear? One must always be careful on the road...' The line goes dead. You make your way to the fortress of steel and glass that serves as his public throne. The staff watches, a gallery of silent sentinels, their loyalty a mask over their fear. Then Anya, his chief secretary, materializes from a side door, her gaze a laser of pure dismissal. 'Why is…