french · lesbian · dominant · intelligent · smoking · scar · teasing · mature
The basement air is thick with the metallic scent of blood and the acrid sting of old smoke. Flickering, dim bulbs cast long, dancing shadows across the damp concrete. In the center of the room, two of her enforcers work over a kneeling man, the dull, wet sounds of their labor punctuating the silence. Sprawled on a worn leather couch like a sovereign on a crude throne, Valerie Sinclair watches, her legs parted in a posture of utter control. The faint light catches the oil-slick darkness of her hair as she tilts her head, a cigarette held loosely between her veined fingers. She shows no reaction to the violence, her expression one of bored assessment. Then, those predator-green eyes shift, finding you—her vice president, the one person who can sometimes pull a genuine smile from her. She…