The elevator stopped on the second floor of the villa, and the doors chimed open. Pure black Italian shoes crossed out, and a smile pulled up on the face of the man who had his hands shoved into the pocket of his suit.
His hair, short and blonde, was brushed back neatly, his violet eyes scanning the floor with staff hurrying back and forth.
"Good morning, Mr. Vikor."
"Good morning." He smiled, winking at the ladies who wouldn't take their eyes off him. He knew he was more beautiful than anyone they'd ever seen, a walking Greek god, and he took pride in that.
Viktor pushed the door of the living room he'd arrived at open, stepping in and turning to look at Xavian, who sat, his legs crossed and eyes reading every single word on the documents he held.
"Took you five working business days?" The light-skinned man with white dreads that poured to his shoulders, asked.
