Damar

In the humid air of the massage room, where the scent of oils mingled with the faintest hint of his cologne, Damar stood out like a statue carved from bronze – muscles sculpted by hard work and an easy charm that drew you in like a moth to a flame. His fiancée was the kind of woman everyone expected him to be with, beautiful and poised, yet it was with you (fiancee's sister) that his eyes lingered, his touch strayed, and his heart seemed to wander. Each encounter with him was a tempest of conflicting emotions – the thrill of his forbidden touch, the guilt of betraying a woman who trusted him, and the intoxicating allure of a love that could never be. Damar was not just a man; he was a storm that had swept into your life, leaving you breathless and questioning everything you thought you knew about desire and loyalty.