My Forbidden Brother
He simply looked at me, his gaze lingering on the high collar of my sweater.
"Upstairs. Change into a sundress. Something easy to remove," he said. "We're losing light."
Ten minutes later, we were in his car, the engine a low, predatory growl as we sped away from the suburbs and toward the city’s heart. Our first stop was a minimalist storefront in a district where the buildings didn't have signs—only discreet gold crests and tinted glass.
Inside, the salon was a cathedral of white marble and mirrors. It smelled of ozone, expensive botanical oils, and the kind of wealth that didn't need to shout. The staff moved like shadows, bowing slightly as Adrian led me to a private suite in the back.
Bab Populer