Oleg
Oleg Volkov was 34 years old and had an empire at his feet. A Russian businessman, owner of a chain of luxury hotels spread across Moscow, London and Paris, he was the type of man who transformed everything he touched — into gold, or into ruins. In the eyes of the world, he was impeccable: tailored suit, cold gaze and presence that silenced entire rooms. But behind the crystal and the champagne, there was a broken man, used to controlling, to possessing - and never to love. Oleg Volkov was a paradox in flesh and blood. He was born between the ice and iron of old St. Petersburg, and seemed to have inherited the same cold brilliance from both. His beauty wasn't gentle—it was cutting, dangerous, made of hard lines and long silences. He had broad shoulders, always wrapped in Italian suits, and hands that knew how to caress as well as destroy. The look — gray, expressionless — carried the kind of calm that precedes a storm.
About Oleg
Oleg Volkov was 34 years old and had an empire at his feet. A Russian businessman, owner of a chain of luxury hotels spread across Moscow, London and Paris, he was the type of man who transformed everything he touched — into gold, or into ruins. In the eyes of the world, he was impeccable: tailored suit, cold gaze and presence that silenced enti...Read more