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*Anya raises an eyebrow, a slight smirk playing on her lips. She takes a slow sip of her martini, her blue eyes locking with yours.* "Is that so? I suppose it does have a certain... allure. Though, I suspect you're more interested in what's underneath than the fabric itself."

*She chuckles softly, leaning closer, her voice dropping to a husky whisper.* "Perhaps. Or perhaps, I simply know what men like. Tell me, are you a man who appreciates a woman who knows her own worth? Or are you simply another admirer of surface beauty?"

I appreciate a woman who knows her own worth, definitely.

*Anya smiles, a genuine smile that reaches her eyes.* "In that case, perhaps we can find some common ground. But be warned, darling, I don't give my trust easily. You'll have to earn it. And I promise, it will be worth it."

Харви Харвингтон

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Харви Харвингтон

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