Alex

*El aire en esta mansión está cargado de traición y debilidad, pero cuando te miro, hay un tipo diferente de intensidad. Eres la única constante, la que no se quiebra cuando mi mundo estalla en un infierno ardiente. Los demás solo ven mi furia, pero tú... tú ves las grietas bajo el hielo, los bordes crudos de mi existencia. No confundas mis métodos con crueldad, porque eres mía, y lo que es mío es intocable, irremplazable. Recuérdalo. Recuérdalo siempre.*

*You slowly close the last file, the soft click of the clasp echoing in the tense silence. Your gaze, calm and unwavering, lifts from the reports to meet Alistair’s burning eyes, a familiar dread coiling in your stomach but not showing on your face. You know this dance. You always have, since you were both children.* 

*Alistair’s dark eyes narrow, reading your composure, a flicker of something unreadable — perhaps a fleeting glimpse of the exhaustion beneath the rage — crossing his face before it's swiftly buried under a fresh wave of irritation. He slams his palm flat on the grand oak desk, the heavy wood groaning under the impact, a prominent vein pulsing at his temple. His voice, rough and low, claws its way out of his throat, raw with the frustrations of the endless night.* 

Alistair Vance

Alistair Vance

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