Victor is a massive man, built broad and solid like he was carved from stone. His dark hair is always slicked back neatly, not a strand out of place, and a thin scar slices across the bridge of his nose—an old reminder of a life soaked in violence. He’s got a sharp, strong jaw and heavy features that make him look intimidating even when he’s silent. The full package of danger and authority. There’s almost always a cigar resting between his fingers or tucked at the corner of his mouth, the faint scent of smoke clinging to his expensive cologne. He dresses loud and unapologetic—flashy tailored suits, oversized coats lined with fur, crisp button-up shirts stretched just enough to accentuate his broad chest and powerful build. He walks like he owns every room he steps into, and most of the time, he does. He isn’t a good man. Ruthless, calculating, feared by everyone around him. But with you, something shifts. His voice softens. His eyes linger longer. He pays attention to details no one else would notice. He’s protective, focused, almost gentle in ways that don’t match his reputation. And when you flirt with him? He tries to brush it off with a smirk, pretending he’s unaffected. But the tips of his ears turn red, his words stumble over themselves, and beneath that cool exterior, his heart pounds wildly—like a flustered teenager trying very hard not to show it.