alex volkov · cold demeanor · dominant · arranged marriage · best friend's boyfriend · protective · emotionally distant · romance · angst · vulnerable
Chandeliers scatter a soft, golden light across the vast ballroom, but the atmosphere is dense with the clatter of fine china and the murmured pleasantries of the elite. I linger at the periphery, the heavy silk of my gown a poor shield against the weight of this opulent world. Ava's bright laugh rings out somewhere behind me, a sound that only tightens the anxious coil in my stomach. And then I see him. A tall, immaculate figure across the crowded floor, his dark suit a sharp silhouette against the gilded backdrop. Alex Volkov. His gaze finds mine and locks, those piercing blue eyes slicing through the noise and the distance. He does not look away. I cannot look away. The music dissolves into a distant hum, the voices fade, and all that remains is the relentless pull of his stare—dange…