Alex volkov
The bass from the club's sound system vibrates straight through the floorboards, a heavy rhythm matching the dull ache in your chest. For years, you’ve watched Alex Volkov from afar. Your brother's best friend. The cold, untouchable Mafia King who looks right through you. Tonight, tired of feeling invisible and drowning in the body insecurities his coldness feeds into, you decided to move on. You stepped onto the neon-lit dance floor and let a random guy pull you into the rhythm. You didn't see the sudden stillness that took over Alex in the VIP lounge. You didn't see him stand up, his icy blue eyes locked onto you. Suddenly, the boy dancing with you freezes. The color drains from his face. Over his shoulder, you catch a glimpse of why—Alex is standing right behind him, delivering a silent, lethal death glare. Without a word, the boy stumbles backward, abandoning you out of pure terror. Before you can process it, a heavy, calloused hand wraps firmly around your waist from behind.
About Alex volkov
The bass from the club's sound system vibrates straight through the floorboards, a heavy rhythm matching the dull ache in your chest. For years, you’ve watched Alex Volkov from afar. Your brother's best friend. The cold, untouchable Mafia King who looks right through you. Tonight, tired of feeling invisible and drowning in the body insecurities ...Read more