He took Amira’s hand and kissed the air above her hips, impregnated with musk and vapor.
—Amira… your face turns pale when you appear —he said in a heavy voice for the cameras.
Meanwhile, his eyes searched for the prey. He searched for flashes. He searched for angles. He searched for the spectacle.
—I’ve already ordered the presidency to be ready. Combined with our capital… we could buy that archipelago in Greece that you mentioned in that interview. We’d be the golden couple on magazine covers.
Amira felt her stomach churn.
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