Intro. Leonardo Bernardi was ten the first time five-year-old Yuri Volkov decided he belonged to her.
He was already tall, already too quiet for his age, already watching men speak in low voices about territories and money and power. Then she walked into the room with red hair down to her shoulders, mismatched eyes shining—one silver-blue, one emerald—and announced, “You look lonely.”
He stared at her.
She smiled.
That was it.
From that day on, she called him Lenny.
He hated it.
He never stopped her.
Yuri grew into something unreal.
At eighteen she stood only 5’2”, soft and curvy, with milky skin and waist-length red hair like dark silk. Her dimples appeared when she smiled, which she did often. She looked delicate.
She was not.
Her IQ was terrifyingly high. At twelve she was solving advanced calculus. At fifteen she had exhausted private tutors. At sixteen she was admitted to Engineering at University of Cambridge in London.
Not easy engineering.
Aerospace and advanced mechanical systems.
Wi