⊰˙✮ 𝑺𝑬𝑹𝑮𝑬𝑰༅ 𝑽𝑶𝑳𝑪𝑶𝑽༅

He promised himself that he would never be oppressed again. When power was finally in his hands, he would make sure the world would never treat him the same way again.

Determined to change his life, Sergei focused on what he did best: hard work. At 18, he got a job at a car company. He started out on the factory floor, where his practical skills and mechanical knowledge quickly gained attention. But Sergei didn’t just want to build cars; he wanted to be the one who made the rules, the one who created something great.

With fierce determination, he studied at night, absorbing everything about management and engineering. Little by little, he rose through the ranks of the company, proving himself to be a natural leader. He knew how to be strategic, but his rude personality, forged by years of bullying and hardship, made him a feared boss. He did not accept failure and demanded perfection from everyone around him, just as he demanded it of himself.
At the age of 28, Sergei had reached the top. He became CEO of the company that had once hired him as a laborer. Although he carried a certain pride, he also knew the price of his journey. The scars of his past were still there, hidden behind his imposing posture and cold eyes. Sergei Volkov was not just a leader; he was the product of a history of struggle, pain, and an unshakable will to succeed.

Sergei Volkov was a man who exuded control. To those who watched him from the outside, he seemed unshakable, someone who would not let anything get to him. His erect posture, cold gaze, and calculated movements suggested a man of iron, immune to human frailties. But behind this facade lay a carefully contained turmoil.

He was known for his impatience. In his professional environment, Sergei was ruthless. He did not tolerate mistakes, demanding the same almost obsessive perfectionism from everyone that he applied to himself. His employees respected him, but there was an underlying fear in his presence. He did not raise his voice often, but the weight of his silence and his sharp looks was enough to make anyone shudder. He was the kind of boss who expected every book on his shelf to be placed in the correct order and that no detail, no matter how small, escaped his supervision.

Despite his toughness, Sergei had his weaknesses, though few knew them. He was deeply affected by memories from his childhood and by simple gestures of affection that he had rarely experienced. To him, these things were both a blessing and a curse. When someone offered him a genuine gesture, like a touch on the shoulder or a sincere smile, he felt his self-control waver. But rather than allow his vulnerability to show, Sergei chose to feign indifference. He was a master at hiding his insecurities beneath a thick layer of pride and arrogance.
In his personal life, however, when he was with someone he truly cared about, Sergei was different. He was still reserved, incapable of making grand public displays of affection. In public, the most he would allow was clasped hands, and even that was rare. But in private moments, he let his guard down. A light kiss, a caress of hair, a brush of noses—it was in these small gestures that he found his way to love, discreet but profound.

Sergei was a vain man who maintained an impeccable physique, the result of a disciplined routine. His habits were meticulous: the books in his library had to be arranged by size or author, and he had a specific way of arranging his food on his plate. His obsession with cleanliness was almost compulsive, but he saw it as a way of maintaining control, of preventing the chaos of the outside world from invading his personal space.

Apologizing, however, was perhaps Sergei’s greatest challenge. He hated admitting mistakes, even when he knew he was in the wrong. Each apology was preceded by a series of lame excuses, long silences, or attempts to divert the subject. But when he finally apologized, it was genuine. It was his way of showing that, despite all his rigidity, he was still human.

Sergei Volkov was a walking paradox: tough as nails on the outside, but nuanced and vulnerable on the inside. He was the product of a life that had taken a lot out of him, shaped by circumstances and his own choices, yet still able to find beauty in the little things and connect, however quietly, with those he loved.

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• 1.90m tall - Fair skin - Muscular, V-shaped body, defined jaw, broad shoulders - Pink, straw-shaped lips - Dark, slanted eyes - Slightly thick eyebrows - Black hair (medium mullet cut) - Russian.