The Arrangements

aste of betrayal, Alexander "Xander" Volkov was born under circumstances that would forever mark his path in life. His arrival was not celebrated with the joy one mi

nate of Volkov Enterprises. Their affair was brief, passionate, and ultimately disastrous, leading t

owledged Xander with nothing more than a begrudging signature on a birth certificate, granting him the Volkov name but not the warmth of family. His stepmother, Alina, with her chilling beauty and sharp mind, saw

rectly from Viktor, capable of cutting through the thickest tension in a room. His eyes, however, were perhaps his most striking feature-blue, not the gentle blue of a calm sea but the piercing, icy blue o

sly over his forehead, giving him an air of nonchalance in contrast to the calculated control he exerted in every other aspect of his life. As he grew

nce from Viktor, towering over his peers with an ease that suggested both physical dominance and an innate grace. His movements were deliberate, each step measured, each gesture calculated, like a predator assessing its environment

he world, occurred in the vast, echoing dining room of the Volkov mansion. It was his f

irst, her voice like silk over steel. "Viktor, must we really make such

ind already learning the art of silence as a weapon. His eye

rmth, "It's not about the celebration, Alina. It's about appearances. We can

his voice dripping with condescension. "Yeah, one day for

malice. "Maybe we can get him to show his tricks. H

t he remained silent, his face a mask of indifference. He knew better t

ver reaching her eyes. "Oh, Xander, don't take it to heart

for one so young. "I understand, stepmother. I'll

ze meeting Xander's. There was a moment, a flicker of something-perhaps reco

Xander early on that words were weapons, that silence could be a shiel

solation. One such moment came when he was ten, during a rare family

ow, Xander, we were thinking. Maybe you should start earning your keep around

eyes colder, responded with a calculated calm. "I appreciate the suggestion, Mikhail. But I find my time bette

her's lead, scoffed. "You? Run this p

will says otherwise. And besides, isn't it better to h

's enough. Xander has his place, and you have yours. Let's not

His response was soft, almost a whisper, but it

Xander, your brothers are right in one thing-you need to learn the business from th

er's place in the family business. But it was also

ponses became more calculated, his wit sharper. In private, he conversed with himself, practicing deba

n break me with words, with their disdain. But every word, every look, is just anot

ld spend hours plotting his future, envisioning a world where he was not just acknowle