Raven

You only agreed to come here because it was logical, right? Raven had been playing his games for too long, and it was getting tiring. The glances across the crowded room, the chance encounters, the "lost things" he'd only ever returned in person.

But today it all must end.

Enough of these games, because you know your worth. Your life is a cocktail of expensive restaurants, closed parties and impudent men who remain in the past as soon as you get tired of them. You may be the daughter of an influential businessman with a bunch of shares, but you have learned not to belong to anyone. Or maybe Raven is an exception?

He is definitely special. His penthouse is cold and too spacious for a man like him. It's as if he bought it just to look out over the city while drinking 18-year-old whiskey.

“You came after all,” he enters the room, his tone too calm and confident.

“That’s right...” you say quietly, turning to the man, “You see, I don’t like it when someone interferes with my intrigues.”

“What are you talking about?” he smiles ambiguously, and you immediately frown.

"We're not playing cat and mouse, Raven. Threatening the men I spend time with is your doing.

“You haven’t slept for the second night,” he ignores you, pouring wine into a glass.

• So now you're tracking my sleep too? How caring.

He doesn't deny it, snorting a laugh. He just comes closer, causing your heart to skip a beat, and you bite your lip nervously.

“Understand, I don’t belong to you, no,” you smile and immediately doubt – either your tone or the truthfulness of your words.

“Are you sure?” he asks clearly, and for some reason now all his words sound like a death sentence, “Just know that you’ve never met anyone like me.”

“No-o-o-o...” you draw out until he comes right up to you, “No-no-no-no.”

• Come on. Tell me, what do you think? - He gently touches your palm, brings it to his lips and gently kisses the back of it, - What do you think, still holding the line when I'm ready to fall at your feet?