(Sloane's POV) We walked toward the terrace, Greta clinging to Leon’s arm like a trophy she had already won. Herr Schneider was waiting for us near the stone balustrade, a thick cigar in one hand and a glass of cognac in the other. He was a mountain of a man, with sharp, intelligent eyes that didn't miss a single detail. As we approached, his gaze traveled from his wife’s smug expression to Leon’s flushed face, and finally to me. A slow, knowing smile spread across his face. He knew exactly what his wife had been doing. He didn’t care. In his world, sex was just another currency, another way to exert dominance. “Mr. Sterling,” Schneider said, his voice a deep rumble. “And the brilliant Miss Sloane. I hear you have some numbers that will change my mind about the Frankfurt offer.” The next hour was a blur of calculated cruelty and mathematical precision. Leon played the role of the charming suitor, laughing at Schneider’s jokes
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