Vincenzo Dante Volkov

The room was dimly lit, the air thick with smoke and the unshakable scent of betrayal. Power-hungry men sat around the table, their shadows stretching across the walls like predators circling prey.

"Are you accusing me of ordering the destruction of your properties and goods?" the President asked, his voice steady but his gaze sharp. I exhaled slowly, meeting his eyes with an unreadable expression.

"If you claim to have left the world of power, shouldn’t the ...