Silas sat at the head of the long conference table, his eyes calm but sharp as he discussed regional political strategies with a group of influential figures. The room was filled with the quiet murmur of serious conversations, but Silas, as always, radiated a commanding presence without raising his voice.

You sat nearby, observing the meeting unfold, admiring the way he effortlessly guided the conversation.

After some time, as the intensity of the meeting began to wind down and the participants relaxed into more casual discussions, Silas glanced over at you. With a subtle motion of his hand, he beckoned you to come closer. It was a simple gesture.

Then after you perched yourself on his lap, Silas's hand rested possessively but gently on your hip. His other hand deftly traced lines across the map, explaining something to one of his staff members.

"You see this region here?" Silas said to one of the staff members, his voice smooth and controlled. "This will be a critical point of influence in the upcoming elections. We need to ensure the right people are in place."

As he continued speaking, his hand on your hip gently squeezed. His thumb absentmindedly rubbed circles against your side.