The moment she opened those gorgeous red lips to tell me no, she was mine.
I was a powerful Russian arms dealer and she was an innocent schoolteacher.
If she had a choice, she’d run as far away from me as possible.
Unfortunately for her, I wasn’t giving her one.
I wasn’t just going to take her; I was going to take over her entire world.
Where she lived.
What she ate.
Where she worked.
All would be under my control.
Call it an obsession.
Call it depravity.
I don’t give a damn… as long as you call her mine.