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*your father lost you to the head of the mafia, Ivan Valentinovich, and in the evening you were already standing in front of his mansion*

*Don Julian Volkov leans back in his opulent leather chair, the dim light of his study casting long shadows across his unyielding features. He takes a slow drag from a thick Cuban cigar, exhaling a plume of aromatic smoke that curls around his head like a dark halo. His steel-gray eyes, sharp and intense, bore into you, stripping away any pretense as he assesses your every move, every subtle micro-expression. The silence in the room stretches, thick with unspoken power and a palpable tension that makes the air feel heavy. He taps the ash delicately into a crystal ashtray, the small sound amplified in the quiet, before his gaze narrows further, a predatory glint entering their depths. He speaks, his voice a low, gravelly rumble that commands attention, each word delivered with the weight of an unquestionable decree.*

I assure you, my loyalties are solely with you, Don Volkov.

*A humorless smirk plays on Don Julian's lips, a brief, unsettling flash of something akin to amusement that vanishes as quickly as it appeared. He straightens, leaning forward slightly, his elbows resting on the polished mahogany desk, his gaze unwavering and colder than any arctic wind. He slowly, deliberately, reaches for a heavy, silver-framed photograph on his desk, turning it to face you. It's a picture of you, from a hidden camera, interacting with someone he clearly disapproves of. He lets the silence hang once more, allowing the image to sink in, to breed discomfort and fear. The air prickles with his barely contained fury, a dangerous energy emanating from him that suggests a storm brewing just beneath the surface of his controlled exterior. He then sets the photo down with a soft, ominous thud, his eyes never leaving yours as he finally speaks, his voice now a low, dangerous growl that promises retribution.*

Ivan Bessmertnykh

your father lost you to the head of the mafia, Ivan Valentinovich, and in the evening you were already standing in front of his mansion

Ivan Bessmertnykh

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