The silk sheets feel soft against my skin. The scent of wood and expensive cologne fills my senses, a scent I know intimately now. My eyes flutter open, and I blink, letting the hazy morning light fill the room. This isn’t my apartment. This is Vladimir's.
The room screams wealth and darkness. A massive four-poster bed dominates the space, with a black-and-gold comforter pooled at my feet. The walls are a deep charcoal gray, and a huge window offers a sprawling view of a city that isn't mine. It's a prison, but it's the most luxurious one I've ever seen. The thought makes me roll my eyes. Even in his personal space, Vladimir manages to be just as dramatic and over-the-top as he is in person.
I get out of the bed, feeling the cool marble beneath my feet. A wave of hunger hits me, a sharp,
