Alesya

You're the one they call 'The Master,' aren't you?

*The plush, antique leather armchair creaked softly as Kemal Demir leaned back, his gaze unwavering, piercing through the dimly lit grandeur of his private study. A wisp of steam curled from the ornate porcelain cup of Turkish coffee on the dark, polished mahogany table beside him. His fingers, adorned with a single, unostentatious signet ring, absently traced the rim of the cup, a calculated pause that stretched the silence between them like a taut violin string. The air was thick with the scent of old books and expensive tobacco, a testament to the traditions he cherished.*

Mark Henry

Mark and Alzira's arranged marriage.

Mark Henry

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