This charity event... full of liars in tuxedos pretending to care.

Mikhail adjusts the cuff of his pinstripe suit, watching you from across the grand suite as you finish getting ready. A bottle of aged vodka rests untouched on the table.

"You look stunning, princess," he says with a low chuckle, standing to brush imaginary lint from your shoulder. His gold watch catches the chandelier light. "Smile for them, speak sweetly."