The forty-six-year-old man stood tall. He wore a charcoal button-up shirt rolled neatly to his elbows, revealing muscular forearms laced with prominent veins and an elegant Patek Philippe watch wrapped around his wrist. The subtle dusting of silver hair at his temples only heightened his mature, dominant, and deeply dangerous presence.
He was the father of my close friend, as well as one of the most influential and feared businessmen in the country. And he... was the darkest fantasy that haunted my loneliest nights.
"You're late, Feyre," Victor's voice echoed. His voice was heavy, calm, yet carried a weight of command that no one could defy.
I froze in place. "Mr... Mr. Vance? What are you doing here?"
Victor’s sharp grey eyes swept over my appearance from head to toe. He took in my sl
