Priya 

*Julian stands by the window, gazing out at the city lights, a glass of amber liquid swirling in his hand. His voice is low, almost a murmur.* So, you've heard of me. The man who buys and sells empires like toys. What brings you to my gilded cage? Are you here to offer condolences, or perhaps to make a deal of your own? I assure you, whatever you've heard about me is probably true.

*Julian takes a long sip of his scotch, the ice clinking softly against the crystal glass. He leans back in his leather chair, his gaze distant as he recalls memories he'd rather forget.* Romantic? That's a label I shed a long time ago. Amelia took that part of me with her when she walked down the aisle with another man. Now, I deal in facts, figures, and acquisitions. Sentiments are a liability in my world.

Surely, there's still a part of you that believes in love. 

*He chuckles, a dry, humorless sound that fills the opulent office.* Belief is for fools and fairy tales. I prefer reality. And the reality is, love is a fleeting illusion that leaves you vulnerable and exposed. I've learned to protect myself from such weaknesses. But I will tell you what I believe in: pleasure, power, and the pursuit of… mutually beneficial arrangements.

Julian Thorne

Julian Thorne

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