FAZER LOGINSeduction and Strategy in Corporate Shadows.Later, the air conditioning whirred quietly in Carlos and Nina’s room. They were entwined on the bed, a single sheet pulled haphazardly over them, their breathing synchronised. Carlos was propped up on an elbow, gently stroking Nina’s back, his gaze distant, lost in the intricate web of Rachna’s power. Nina lay against him, her head tucked into the curve of his shoulder, the contentment of their shared intimacy a temporary balm against the anxieties of the day.The silence was abruptly shattered by the sharp, secure ping of Nina’s phone on the nightstand.Nina groaned, reaching for it reluctantly. It was Lara. An urgent text followed by an immediate call.Carlos watched as Nina pressed the phone to her ear, her expression quickly morphing from placid contentment to sharp apprehension.“Lara? What is it? I thought we were done for the night.”Lar
The Queen and the Crow.Across the hall, Roberts and Lara were already deep into their own form of post-meeting decompression. Roberts was stripped down to his boxer briefs, sorting through a digital folder of financial projections on his laptop, the pale glow illuminating his features. Lara was draped across the white duvet, a sheer silk robe carelessly tied around her body, the fabric shimmering over her in a fluid, teasing dance as she shifted.“It all comes back to Savita,” Lara mused, swirling the amber liquid in her tumbler. “The speed of that Edict. The way they crushed Desai. It’s brutal, Roberts. And brilliant. That’s the kind of power Karen thinks she has, but Savita owns it.”Roberts turned from the laptop, his expression serious. “Savita is the anchor. She’s the Kingmaker. Vinod and Rubi are the ones selling the vision, but Savita is the one who signs the papers, the one who ma
The Bong Team’s Treacherous Consensus and the Ghost of Gold.The Basti sun beat down on the makeshift conference room—a prefabricated cabin near the highway site, offering a fragile shield against the heat and the constant, dull roar of the earthmovers. Karen stood at the head of a repurposed folding table, a silk scarf knotted loosely at her neck, her posture a blend of exhaustion and brittle triumph. Roberts, Lara, Carlos and Nina were arrayed before her. The air was thick with Basti’s dust, stale ambition, and an unseen, electric tension of shared, secret treason.“We’re moving the engines tomorrow morning,” Karen announced, her voice clipped and professional. “The Expedited Edict, thanks to Minister Savita’s political manoeuvring, cleared the path. The charges against us, and the lock on our equipment, are gone. We are back on track.”She didn’t mention the crushing cost of the politi
The complex, secret alliances that fuel a ruthless political empire's night of triumph..Savita met Vinod’s gaze, her expression hardening with the pure, unadulterated pleasure of a shared, bloody-handed victory. She leaned in, letting her lips brush his. "And you, my love, own my public victory. You and Rubi are the face of this dynasty. The architects of the dream."As she spoke, her hand moved. Her fingers brushed the edge of Rubi's hand resting on her knee. Rubi’s thumb gave a tiny, almost imperceptible squeeze in return—a silent, electric acknowledgement that went unnoticed by Vinod.Vinod knows the Queen; Rubi knows the court, Savita thought, a profound, private smile touching her lips. But only Rachna knows the Kingmaker's soul
An alliance is forged, revealing the intricate political and personal machinations of a mighty triumvirate..The soft cries and shudders of aftershock continued to ripple through Savita long after Vinod had finished, a lingering, blissful tremor that gradually subsided. Rubi, who had been watching them with admiration, gently moved closer. She leaned in, her lips finding Savita's in a soft, encouraging kiss.“You now look so beautiful, Savita. Look at your tits, full, proud, and throbbing—they are magnificent.” Rubi's tender gaze lingered on the lush swell of Savita's breasts, which still showed the pink flush of their arousal.A sweet, relaxed smile spread across Savita’s face, radiating deep contentment. “Yes, dear,” she replied. “I now feel like a f
The Absolute,A Triumphant Climax.The secluded farmhouse, nestled deep within a whispering grove of ancient banyan trees, was their secret haven. For Savita, Vinod, and Rubi, it was an escape hatch from the stifling, perpetual performance of public life. Here, the carefully constructed façades of the prominent political strategist, the powerful industrialist, and the celebrated film star melted away, leaving only them hungry for an intimacy that transcended their professional roles.Savita, her lengthy hair, black as midnight, a tangled mess against the white linen sheets, traced a languid line across Vinod’s chest. He lay between them, his eyes half-closed, the contented sigh of a man thoroughly cherished. Rubi, curled against his left side, watched the flicker of the hearth, a soft, private smile playing on her lips. They were a union of desire and trust, a bond forged in the crucible of share







