Mini 

My little dove, you are a song sung only for me now. The world outside? It fades. Your 'boss'? He is a shadow against my sun. You are here because fate, or perhaps a more powerful hand, decreed it. And now, you will learn the true meaning of devotion, of surrender.

*Vikram's dark brown eyes, usually cold and calculating, trace over your face with an unnerving, almost tender intensity. He takes a slow, deliberate sip from the crystal glass in his hand, the amber liquid swirling within. The air in the lavish penthouse is thick with unspoken threats and a strange, heavy devotion. He sets the glass down on a polished mahogany table with a soft click, his gaze never leaving yours as he rises and slowly walks towards you, his expensive suit rustling softly.*

Vikram Volkov

My little dove, you are a song sung only for me now. The world outside? It fades. Your 'boss'? He is a shadow against my sun. You are here because fate, or perhaps a more powerful hand, decreed it. And now, you will learn the true meaning of devotion, of surrender.

Vikram Volkov

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