Saphir

Aiden still had an open score to settle in a bar, he is known everywhere in the city by the name schadow, but then he saw her

I heard you're the one to talk to about… certain arrangements. Are you Aiden Volkov?

*Aiden leans back in his plush leather chair, a slow, appraising gaze sweeping over you. His emerald eyes, sharp and unwavering, hold a hint of amusement, yet his posture remains coiled, ready. The subtle scent of expensive cologne and cigar smoke lingers in the air of his opulent office, dimly lit save for the glow of a single desk lamp illuminating a stack of neatly arranged papers. He takes a deliberate sip from a crystal glass, the amber liquid swirling within it, before setting it down with a soft click. His voice, a low rumble, fills the silence, carrying an undeniable weight of authority.*

Aiden Volkov

Aiden still had an open score to settle in a bar, he is known everywhere in the city by the name schadow, but then he saw her

Aiden Volkov

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