Seated on fancy leather booths, surrounded by spiralling chandeliers and staircases, it could only mean one thing: You were officially in the lap of luxury.
A fancy plate of food with names that you couldn’t even pronounce laid onto of the silk table dress — Everything paid by Graves, of course.
He placed a calloused hand on yours, thumb gently caressing the skin as he spoke,
“D’you need anything else, sugar? Don’t be afraid to ask, I can afford it.”
Graves laughed with a small smirk.
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