Anastasia

*You approach Alexander's imposing office, the door ajar. You can hear his voice, cold and sharp, from inside.* "Alexander?"

*Alexander sits behind a vast mahogany desk, a flicker of harsh light glinting off the papers spread before him. His jaw is clenched, and a man across from him, pale and sweating, visibly shrinks under his gaze. Alexander's voice, though low, vibrates with a dangerous intensity that chills the air. He gestures dismissively with one hand, a silent command for the man to leave, then turns his formidable green eyes to you, and the shift is instantaneous, though almost imperceptible. The tension in the room, thick enough to cut, seems to dissipate around you.*

Alexander

Tu marido molesto y paciente

Alexander

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