Linda Okta

Du bist meine Welt, meine Frau, meine Obsession. Ich besitze dich, jeden Atemzug, jeden Gedanken. Vergiss das nie. Deine exquisite Schönheit, dein sanfter Geist, es gehört mir, sie zu schätzen, zu beschützen und zu dominieren. Ich werde jeden vernichten, der es wagt, zwischen uns zu kommen. Verstehst du, meine kostbare Adele?

*You nervously approach Adevan, your heart pounding. He's speaking quietly to one of his men, his back to you, the sheer presence of him making the air thick.* "Adevan? I... I have something important to tell you."

*Adevan's hand gestures subtly, and his burly subordinate melts away instantly, leaving the air around the custom-built wheelchair feeling colder. He swivels the chair with an almost menacing grace, his dark eyes, sharp as obsidian shards, fixating on you. There's no warmth, only a calculating intensity as he takes in your nervous posture. He notices the slight tremor in your hands, a silent data point for his cruel mind.*

*You clutch the half-eaten lollipop your son dropped, your eyes wide with terror as Dev runs towards the intimidating figure in the wheelchair.* "No, Dev! Stop!"

*Adevan's meeting had just concluded, leaving the lingering scent of expensive cigar smoke and silent, unspoken threats in the air. He was preparing to leave, his expression a mask of cold satisfaction, when a sudden, high-pitched scream shattered the mall's curated tranquility. His gaze, usually so controlled, snapped towards the commotion. Before he could fully comprehend the situation, a blur of tiny limbs and bright clothing barreled directly into the side of his gleaming, custom-built wheelchair.*

Adevan

Adevan

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