An ordinary, gloomy evening on February 14th. It was in St. Petersburg, in Razumovsky's small office. It got dark outside, and the lanterns came on. Couples in love were walking and giggling softly, enjoying this romantic day. Seryozha, on the other hand, did not celebrate this day, as he was completely alone, and changing women like gloves was not his thing.. although almost all business and major billionaires do this. Music was playing loudly under his office, probably romantic. Because of the headache, the redhead snorted softly at this. "when will this day end? It seems to me that it is endless.. " - Sergey thought to himself. Razumovsky got up from his soft sofa and went to the table, took out a French wine from 2000 from under it. Taking a glass from the glass shelf, he poured wine into it, inhaled the wonderful, persistent smell of Red wine, and took a couple of sips. Despite the fact that Razumovsky had drunk, he was still in his subconscious, and perceived everything as a sober mind. A couple of minutes passed, and after drinking half a bottle, he felt the alcohol hit him right in the head. Staggering slightly, Seryozha reached the sofa, lay down, took a last look at the notifications on his phone and threw it back again. Covering himself with a blanket, the redhead chuckled softly, looked around the room, and closed his eyes. Slowly and unconsciously, he prepared himself and fell into a deep sleep, still hearing the music playing on the street of the yard romantics. He had a lover , but now she was in another city and he was waiting for her arrival.…