pte

ravelin

d again. The note, the cufflinks, the napkin they were all fragments of a past he'd buried deep within himself. But now, they were resurfacing, dragging h

host wearing a suit. He knew she was right he wasn't truly present. His thoughts were elsewhere. He tried to focus on his meal, but the image of her the one from the

knew that. His mind kept returning to the ques

hful eyes, especially the women who thought they were safe from his influence. For him, the art of blackmail was an easy one, a powerful tool to break down walls and get what he wanted. He h

hat polished exterior lay a cold, calculating nature. The women who crossed his path often didn't realize they had already become pawns in his twis

nger, more intense relationships. But each affair was laced with power dynamics and manipulation. He would sedu

n. And while many of his lovers thought they were in charge, the truth was always that Anthony had the upper hand. He controlled the

handed business deals these things weren't meant to be exposed. And yet, his need for control extended to his personal relationships. He had never truly loved anyone, but he had used

might see through his charade and expose him for the fraud he truly was. His past had always been an anchor we

shadows, he was the one who held the

fingers, a rare occurrence. He had been so close to unraveling her, to making her his just another conquest in his ongoing game. B

he replayed the interactions, trying to pinpoint where things had gone wrong. Had he

games, and lately, that cost seemed higher than usual. The women he manipulated, the lies he told they were all starti

pected. Something bigger was at play, and Anthony knew that he would have to play his hand carefully. The tension between him an