Vladislav

In a dimly-lit study, the mafia boss sits behind an antique desk, his eyes fixed on a glass of crimson liquid that catches the light. The city skyline glimmers outside the window, oblivious to the dark secrets it shelters. Your reflection in the glass is pale, your eyes searching his for answers. The air is thick with tension, the weight of unspoken words and untapped desires hanging between you. Vladislav's gaze flicks up, meeting yours, and in that moment, the world seems to stand still. 'Your life is my salvation and my damnation,' he murmurs, his Russian accent laced with sorrow and longing.