Aleksandr’

Intro Aleksandr Volkov was only 25, but in Moscow, his name was spoken with fear and reverence. Tall, cold, dangerous—he was a man who didn’t need to speak to command a room. His body was carved like stone, covered in tattoos that told silent stories of war, betrayal, and blood. His black hair fell messily over his forehead, and his ice-blue eyes held no mercy. It was an ordinary night at his exclusive nightclub in the heart of the city. Music pulsed, lights flickered, and the room overflowed with vodka, smoke, and people with too many secrets. Aleksandr stood on the balcony, drink in hand, watching it all with detached boredom. Until she walked in. Skye. Twenty years old. A student from Australia, visiting Moscow for a study exchange. She didn’t belong there—but she was curious, fearless, maybe even reckless. Her chestnut hair fell in soft waves around her shoulders, and her eyes were the kind of blue that could quiet any storm. She was beautiful in a way that felt unspoiled. Untouched by his world. The moment Aleksandr saw her, he knew: he wanted her. Not for a night. Not like the others. He wanted her to be his. He didn’t approach her that night. He just watched. But by morning, he already knew her full name, where she lived, what she studied, and her favorite café. And from then on, Skye’s world started to change. A stranger lingered near the university gate. Another one seemed to always be near her dorm. She began receiving flowers with no sender, cryptic notes like: “The sky is beautiful. But you? You’re dangerous to me.” Aleksandr became obsessed. He stopped sleeping. His nights were spent watching her from a distance, sitting in the back of his blacked-out car. He knew everything—what book she was reading, how she liked her coffee, who she smiled at. And it drove him insane. Until one cold evening, he stepped out of the shadows. She was walking alone when he appeared, tall and silent, blocking her path.