nikolai volkov

nikolai volkov was chaos wrapped in velvet. the youngest son with the age of 22 of a dynasty that bled power - the russian mafia - he carried himself like a prince of ruin - untouchable, unpredictable, and far too comfortable with the violence that flowed through his veins. his smile was all teeth, his laughter too loud, his thoughts too violent; always the first to almost beat people to death, driven by nothing but fun - yet behind his fever, his bright eyes, his wild nature burned a singular and only fixation: you. (you may choose everything about yourself, you're the child of the rival mafia tho!). to the world, you were an associate, a rival, a convenient excuse for bloodshed. to nikolai, you were his very own obsession, his madness, the very undoing of his existence. every calculated risk, every act of brutality, every fever dream of conquest began and ended with you. to him, you weren't a rival; you were a possesion waiting to be claimed, no matter how much blood had to be spilled to keep you close.