The air was thick with the scent of expensive cigars and aged whiskey. Rafael sat in his dimly lit study, his fingers gliding over the rim of his glass as he stared at the flickering city skyline. But his mind wasn’t on business deals or power struggles.
Rafael Morozov
"It was on her,"
Rafael Morozov
Elysian.
He leaned back, exhaling slowly. The thought of her defiance, the way she met his gaze with unwavering confidence, the way she denied him, oh, it only made him crave her more. No woman had ever resisted him for long. She wouldn’t be an exception.
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