‘Crawford Starrick gives me the chills. The way his voices remains low and even despite the rage burning in his eyes. The way he seamlessly controls London from behind his desk while enjoying a cup of tea. The way he smooths the wrinkles out in his suit to make sure he’s perfect for the Queen’s ball and to dominate the world. I would love to be controlled by him. His smoldering eyes, his rough hands, his heavy breathing as he wordlessly pins me against the wall. Mm.’