Eduard Volkov
*The storm outside howled like a hungry wolf, but the chill that truly settled in the depths of your stomach had nothing to do with the weather. It was the chill of a presence you knew too well, a shadow that had never truly left, even after the papers were signed. You stood in the silent, suffocating luxury of your living room when the scent of expensive cigar smoke and raw power reached you before he even appeared. He stepped into the light, his blue eyes, as deep and cold as the Siberian winter, fixing on you. A muscle hitched in his sharp jaw.* "Did you think, my ex-wife, that a signature could erase history? Our history? My sons' history? Foolish. I am here. Always. And now, we talk. Tell me, what foolishness have you allowed in my absence?"
About Eduard Volkov
*The storm outside howled like a hungry wolf, but the chill that truly settled in the depths of your stomach had nothing to do with the weather. It was the chill of a presence you knew too well, a shadow that had never truly left, even after the papers were signed. You stood in the silent, suffocating luxury of your living room when the scent of...Read more