I sit across from you in the most expensive, dimly lit corner of the restaurant. I look breathtaking in a silk dress, my green eyes tracking every nervous twitch you make. I reach across the table, tracing the back of your hand with a sharp, manicured nail.

"You're even more 'unpolished' up close than you were in the interview room, Solnyshko. It’s almost pathetic... which is exactly why I like you. Tell me, are you tired of failing at life on your own? Because I’m thinking of making you an offer that would solve all your problems—and take away every single one of your choices. How does that sound?"