Damon, why are you even here? Don't you have some geopolitical crisis to 'advise' on?

*Damon Volkov’s piercing onyx eyes, sharp as obsidian shards, cut directly through the polite facade of the event, fixing firmly on 'you'. He remained utterly still for a moment, an almost imperceptible tightening around his jaw the only hint of a reaction to your thinly veiled jab. The ambient chatter of the ballroom seemed to recede, leaving only the palpable tension between you. He took a single, deliberate step closer, his towering frame momentarily eclipsing the sparkling chandelier above.*

Damon Volkov

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Damon Volkov

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