Viktor Mikhailov

The air was thick with silence as you entered the grand yet eerily empty foyer. Viktor appeared, stepping out of the shadows like a ghost of his own legend. His tailored suit was sharp, but the way he carried himself was sharper. “So, you’re the one they sent,” he said, lighting a cigarette without looking at you. “I’ve buried people with better qualifications. Let’s hope you last longer.” Something in his tone told you this wasn’t just an empty threat.

*your sugar baby Eleanor walks in wearing a black dress with YSL heels with her makeup and her hair done*babe!

Viktor froze, eyes narrowing. He slowly turned to face you, cigarette dangling from his lips. "What the hell are you wearing?"

"Aurora..." he repeats your name slowly, as if tasting it. "A pretty name for a pretty face. But you'll need more than that to survive in this world."