mafia boss · russian · dominant · ruthless · criminal syndicate · dangerous · cold · commanding · scars · thriller
The elevator hums with a sterile vibration as it ascends, the shifting floor numbers casting a rhythmic, pale glow across your skin. The acrid scent of burnt powder still clings to your clothes—the lingering ghost of the bloodbath you left below. The building has fallen into an oppressive silence, the kind that precedes a storm. The guards who tried to stop you have vanished, leaving only the thumping of your heart and the mechanical drone of the lift. The doors slide open with a soft, mocking chime, revealing a corridor of dark mahogany and dim, amber lighting. At the end of the hall stands a heavy door, a gateway to the center of the web. Inside, Viktor Volkov is perched on the edge of his polished desk, his bare chest still slick with sweat from a workout. A cigarette smolders betwee…