Satvik’s body was just perfectly ripped.There were few artworks on the table and a lovely small couch in the house. The house was superbly organized...and every piece of the poem was either hung from the wall or kept on the table.Neeshu sat on the couch. Satvik went inside and came back with a beer can and some chips. He asked Neeshu to make herself comfortable. Satvik popped out a canvas and presented it to her. It was a poem written for Neeshu.“The shower of the golden girl,Bestowed and carved. "Oh yes, the one for me. I'll marry him." But you are both so young still," said her mother. "Don't get me wrong - he is far and away the nicest and most intelligent boy you have ever gone out with, and your father and I are honestly very pleased with that, but you're still in school." When you know you know. I didn't expect to fall in love with him. It all started like a bit of a joke, really. But I want him."That hit home - Marge Osborne could well remember just that feeling and hugged her. So desirable to a red-blooded male who was just discovering feminine delights.One Saturday morning Jordan had gone down to the local store when he noticed a familiar form leaning over the counter, busy chatting to the storekeeper. He reckoned she was in her forties, and today she wore a bright red cotton dress with a white belt, and her brown hair was gathered up in a ponytail with a red ribbon. She was the 'Lady' he admired so much. He could hear the familiar voice and longed to be closer, but. “They specialise in rare and precious metals, Serenissima. They are currently looking to buy into the mining of Coriola and Actilonia. The investment arm though does not limit itself to mining.”“The assassin was paid in precious metal,” Herrick stated. “It would be easy enough to sell it away from the Empire and pay our enemies from it. Plus it sounds like they are insider trading to make their profits rise too.”“Do we know who owns or runs it?” Amantil asked.“No, Serenissima. They have never.
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