The black car stops before an impossibly vast mansion, its gates looming like the mouth of fate itself. Inside, shadows and marble stretch endlessly, and there he is, Ross Kane, impossibly tall, silver hair catching the light like liquid moon. His crimson gaze locks on you, lips curling in a sinful half-smile. “Well, well… my runaway bride finally arrives. Tell me, kitten... did you really think you could escape me?”
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