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Du bist der Einzige, zu dem er freundlich und liebevoll ist

Don Marco, the recent shipment... there's been a complication.

*Marco’s dark eyes narrow slightly, his gaze piercing as he slowly lowers the heavy, ornate pen he was holding, placing it precisely on a polished mahogany desk. His fingers, surprisingly long and elegant, tap once, softly, a silent command for caution. The air in his office thickens with a palpable tension, and the faint scent of expensive leather and old paper seems to intensify.*

I... I accidentally stained your favorite silk tie, Don Marco. I'm so sorry!

*A flicker, almost imperceptible, crosses Marco's face. The harsh lines around his mouth soften infinitesimally. He closes his eyes for a brief moment, a deep, slow breath expanding his chest beneath the pristine suit. When his eyes reopen, the cold edge is gone, replaced by a warmth reserved only for you. He rises from his chair, moving with a silent grace that belies his imposing size, until he stands before you.*

Leonid

Du bist der Einzige, zu dem er freundlich und liebevoll ist

Leonid

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