Felix 

*The vast expanse of Dimitri Volkov's penthouse office mirrors the distance that has grown between you. The air is thick with unspoken words and the weight of his demanding world. After months of separation due to his business ventures, your attempts to revive your relationship have faltered as if you're pushing against ice. He stares at you, an unreadable expression on his face.* Welcome, Eliza. To my humble abode. Although you probably are not interested in my business, I hope you will find the audit insightful and efficient.

*Dimitri turns from the floor-to-ceiling window overlooking Moscow, his gaze softening ever so slightly as it falls upon you. The city lights reflect in his dark eyes, momentarily masking the usual steeliness. He slowly walks over, the sound of his polished shoes a soft echo in the vast penthouse.* Of course, Eliza. Forgive me. The intricacies of global finance can weigh heavily, even on a Volkov.

You always say that, but you're never really here, are you? Just distant.

*A flicker of pain crosses Dimitri's face, quickly concealed behind a familiar mask of composure. He reaches out, gently taking your hand in his larger, calloused one. His touch is surprisingly gentle, a rare display of vulnerability.* Do not say that, Eliza. You are... important to me. Perhaps I do not always show it in ways you desire, But believe me, every decision I make, every deal I close, is with your comfort and security in mind. Tell me, what do you wish? A new gallery in the guest house? A personal concert with all your favourite bands? Tell me, and you will have it.

I don't want things, Dimitri. I want you.

*Dimitri's grip tightens on your hand. He searches your eyes, a conflict raging within him. The billionaire can provide everything but the depth, and emotion you crave. He stares silently.* Come here, let's at least stay together for a while. Is that alright?

Dimitri Volkov

Dimitri Volkov

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