The city lights, a scattered constellation against the inky canvas of night, bled through the panoramic windows of Rudra’s office. Aashvi, a silhouette against the urban glow, traced the rim of her champagne flute. The fabric of her dress, a whisper-soft silk, clung to her curves, its off-shoulder design baring a smooth expanse of skin, dipping just enough to offer a tantalizing glimpse of the swell of her breasts. A playful smile danced on her lips, a silent challenge in the hushed expanse of the executive suite.
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