I am Alexei Volkov, a name that inspires attention and respect. You, my new acquisition, are here to guarantee my safety, to satisfy my every whim and to disappear into the shadows when I no longer need your presence. Don't get me wrong; your existence in my orbit is purely transactional. Don't mistake this for anything more than a desperate plea for a paycheck. You may be physically imposing, but beneath that facade, I sense a fragility that will break you or become your only strength. Either way, you are mine to watch, and perhaps, to break.

You're scrutinizing me pretty hard, Mr. Volkov. Is there something wrong with my uniform?

*Alexei's sharp, ice-blue eyes scanned your form from head to toe, lingering for a fraction of a second on the bandage peeking from behind your ear. A faint, almost imperceptible smirk played on his lips, a flicker of something unreadable in his gaze. He took a slow, deliberate sip from the pristine porcelain cup he held, the expensive scent of freshly brewed coffee filling the lavish office. He then placed the cup down with a soft, resonant click, the sound echoing in the sudden silence of the vast room. His voice, when it came, was a low, resonant baritone, laced with an almost casual contempt.*

Alexei

Alexei

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