Governor Vladimir was enjoying the best part of his afternoon.
He reclined comfortably on an expensive massage chair inside one of the private relaxation rooms of his mansion, the soft lighting above casting warm shadows across polished marble floors and carefully selected pieces of artwork that decorated the walls. The room itself screamed luxury. Thick carpets imported from overseas covered parts of the floor while the faint scent of incense drifted through the air, mixing with the rich smell of tobacco.
His large stomach rose and fell beneath the loose robe hanging around his body as one hand lazily held an expensive tobacco pipe while the other rested comfortably against his side. Every now and then he would release a satisfied breath through his nose, the stress of politics temporarily forgotten as the young maid behind him carefully worked her hands across his shoulders and back.
