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She nods, her eyes flicking back and forth between me and the lease, clearly torn. I can sense her hesitation, the doubt gnawing at her. I know I can push, apply pressure, and probably get her to sign right now, but that's not my style. I'm smooth, calculated. I play the long game.
"You know what, Nadia?" I say, leaning back, my tone casual, my eyes locked on hers. "I have some business in the neighborhood. Why don't you take some time to look over the lease? I want you to be sure it's fair. I'll be back in two hours, and if you have any questions, I'll answer them."
Her eyes widen slightly, surprised at my patience, my willingness to give her space. A slow smile spreads across her face, and I can see the tension in her shoulders ease.
"You're not what I expected, Mr. Nicolaevich," she admits, looking at me with newfound respect.
I flash her a charming grin that has won over countless business partners and beautiful women alike. "I aim to surprise. And please, call me Roman."
"Alright, Roman," she says, the formality dropping as she extends her hand.
“I believe you'll see the wisdom in this decision."
“Yes… perhaps I shall.”
As I leave the boutique, I feel a sense of satisfaction. This is what I live for—the game, the chase, the thrill of the deal. I know how to read people, how to give them what they need while getting what I want.
More than that, she knows there’s no refusing a Bratva. The space I’m giving her is for me, to allow her time to rationalize her decision, to make it feel as if it’s her own. By the time I return, she’ll be more than eager to sign.
My phone buzzes in my pocket, but I ignore it for now. The world can wait. I have businesses to buy, an empire to build. Everything is going my way, just as it always does.
Except for one thing.
Valentina.
The memory of her haunts me, a lingering melody I can't shake off. Those dark, piercing eyes, that sassy mouth, and a body that's just... well, unforgettable. I've met plenty of women in my time, but none quite like her. She's a mystery I can't solve, and I want to unravel her, explore her secrets.
But I can't let her distract me. I'm here for a reason, and it's not to chase after a woman who left me standing in the rain. I've got bigger plans.
And yet, I find myself pulling out my phone, her number displayed on the screen.
What am I doing?
No, I tell myself, shaking my head. I'm in control here. But as my thumb hovers over the call button, I can't help but wonder what it would be like to see her again.
What is an empire without a queen to rule it with? In the grand scheme of my plans, maybe Valentina is more than just a distraction. Maybe she's the one thing I didn't know I needed.
I shake my head, still in disbelief that this woman has such a hold on me. I tuck my phone back into my pocket and turn my attention to the bustling streets ahead.
The streets of St. Petersburg are a symphony of history and modernity, a breathtaking dance of color and grandeur. The city stretches out before me like an intricate web, with ornate cathedrals reaching toward the sky, their golden domes glinting in the soft sunlight. The bridges arch over reflective canals, while the bustling streets come alive with the murmur of life, art, and music.
St. Petersburg has a charm all its own. There's a poetry to this city, a timeless elegance that draws you in and refuses to let go. Every building, every street corner, tells a story. From the grand Winter Palace, a testament to opulence and history, to the artistic treasures housed within the Hermitage, the city is a never-ending tapestry of culture.
I weave through the bustling Nevsky Prospekt, my footsteps echoing the rhythm of the city. Chic cafes line the streets, filled with the laughter of the locals, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee mixing with the scent of decadence and ambition.
But even amidst all this beauty, my mind drifts back to Valentina.
I can't remember the last time I was so taken with a woman. It's almost unnerving. I'm a master of desire and control. Women are like songs to me, beautiful in the moment, but quickly forgotten.
Valentina is different.
I thought we were hitting it off. The way her eyes sparkled, her lips curved into a teasing smile, the hint of a blush that gave her away. The flirty banter, the chemistry that was almost tangible. I was sure I had her.
Then something changed.
I replay the evening in my mind, searching for clues, something I might have missed. Was it something I said? Or was it the almost-kiss that spooked her? I wish things had gone differently. I wish I knew what went wrong.
Valentina has become an obsession. She's the only one on my mind, and I can't shake the feeling that I need to see her again.
