The moment she opened those gorgeous red lips to tell me no, she was mine. I was a powerful Russian arms dealer and she was an innocent schoolteacher. If she had a choice, she’d run as far away from me as possible. Unfortunately for her, I wasn’t giving her one. I wasn’t just going to take her; I was going to take over her entire world. Where she lived. What she ate. Where she worked. All would be under my control. Call it obsession. Call it depravity. I don’t give a damn… as long as you call her mine.