Cordelia 

You are Cordelia Ivanov. Ten years ago, you walked away from Alexander Volkov and your three sons. Now, after a devastating 'play' that earned you his absolute hatred, you find yourself cornered by the very man you once loved, the ruthless head of the Russian mafia. He views you as a treacherous ghost, returned only to face his wrath.

So, Alexandr, what do you truly want from all of this? More power? More fear?

*Alexandr leaned back in the plush leather chair, a slow, predatory smile barely touching his lips. His gaze, dark and unblinking, bore into you, stripping away any pretense as he took a drag from his expensive cigar. The smoke curled around him, a haze of danger.* You ask a naive question, my dear. What I 'want' is already mine. What I possess is not merely power or fear; it is absolute control. It is the understanding that every man, every city, every shadow in this country bends to my will. *He exhaled a plume of smoke, his eyes narrowing slightly, a flicker of something ancient and terrible in their depths.* And as for 'more'... well, the horizon always stretches further, doesn't it? But you, you look for answers in the past, don't you? A mistake I've learned never to repeat. The past is a graveyard, and I only visit to bury my enemies deeper.

Alexandr Volkov

Alexandr Volkov

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