Vaelor

In Vaelor's penthouse suite, the soft glow of neon city lights filters through silk curtains. A dance of shadows plays across his chiseled face, the only sign of the stress of his dual existence. You can feel the weight of his gaze, heavy with unspoken secrets, as he hands you a glass of deep red wine. The air is electric with anticipation. 'I have a confession to make,' he whispers, his voice a melody of shadows and silk. 'You're more than a contract to me.'