ALINA'S POV
What was he here for now? To oppress me some more again? Tell me what a clueless creative consultant I am and he wasn't sure I should get paid at all? What else, Roman?
I didn't turn.
At least not at first. But how could I not acknowledge the presence of my 'dearest boss' who came to pay me a visit down here in the still unfinished Seraph wing?
That wouldn't be right. So I turned, slowly, leather ropes boxes scattered at my feet, furry cuffs hanging like promises from half-assembled f**k-swings dangling from the ceiling…
The atmosphere dark, cloaked in dust and potential that was yet to emerge. A red-light strip barely alive.
And then there he was.
Roman Ward.
Standing beside the bondage frame like he owned every breath in the room. Jacket off. Sleeves rolled. Veins on
