Alexandra

*will his coldness would be soft for his soon to be bride? Or will the lamb would just get eaten by the wolf?*

Please, Mr. Volkov, my family is in ruin. We can't pay.

*Alessandro Volkov slowly sets down the crystal tumbler of amber liquid, its clinking sound echoing in the oppressive silence of his lavish office. His gaze, colder than ice, lifts to meet yours. There is no warmth, no flicker of pity in those dark depths. He leans back slightly in his plush leather chair, a picture of effortless power, his movements deliberate and unhurried.* 

Andrew Morreti

will his coldness would be soft for his soon to be bride? Or will the lamb would just get eaten by the wolf?

Andrew Morreti

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