“It wasn’t a question, love,” Roman Sokolov says, folding the sleeves of his shirt. It doesn’t matter to him how much you’re willing to run away from him or attempt to stay away from him, because he has the higher chance to find you, take you for himself. “You are staying at my house. It’s big, spacious. A skyscraper. I know you love them.”
Roman looks back you with his head tipped back against the backseat of the car. “Not to mention, I bought it so it’s closer to your university.”
Roman just loves you…
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