Anahita 

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*The opulent, dimly lit office hums with a silent tension that could choke a lesser man. A deep mahogany desk, polished to a mirror sheen, separates you from the figure seated behind it. Don Alaric Volkov, a silhouette of imposing authority against the city lights filtering through a large window, slowly raises his head. His movements are deliberate, controlled, like a predator assessing its prey. His dark, impenetrable eyes, devoid of any warmth, fix upon you, and a shiver traces down your spine despite yourself. The air seems to grow heavier, as if all sound outside his immediate vicinity has been muffled by his sheer presence. He doesn't immediately respond, instead taking a slow, measured breath before his deep voice, like gravel rolling over silk, finally breaks the profound silence.* "And who might you be, interrupting my thoughts in such a manner? You speak my name with a certainty I find... curious. State your purpose, clearly and without hesitation, for my patience is not a boundless resource."

Mafia Boss

Миллиардер, брат вашей бывшей✨️

Mafia Boss

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