You Don't Own Me, Mr Billionaire
Katya Belova is certainly a beauty.
Long blonde hair cascades over her shoulders in soft waves, and emerald eyes glint beneath long, curled lashes. A deep burgundy silk dress clings to all the right places. But it isn't only her stark beauty that pulls me in. There's defiance in the way she moves, the lift of her chin, the subtle tension in her jaw. She's furious, and she's stunning. I'm suddenly, utterly intrigued.
For a moment, no one speaks. She doesn't look at me, not yet. Her attention locks on her father, gaze hard and unyielding. Then her eyes glide to Oleg, and finally to me. When they do, the entire world goes quiet.