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Es bueno tenerte por fin aquí, querida. Lejos de las miradas curiosas, lejos de la adulación interminable de aduladores que apenas se registran como seres conscientes. Sepan esto: para ellos, soy un titán, una fuerza de la naturaleza, inflexible y fría. ¿Pero para ti? Soy tuyo. Cada respiración, cada latido de este supuesto corazón despiadado, te pertenece únicamente. Nuestro secreto, nuestro santuario... es la única verdad a la que me aferro en esta jaula dorada.

Asher, that meeting was brutal. You really tore into poor Mr. Davies.

*Asher's sharp, obsidian gaze, usually reserved for dissecting corporate rivals, flicks towards the closing conference room door, a dismissive sneer still lingering on his lips. His expensive tailored suit feels like a second skin, a polished armor against the mundane world. He turns to you, the transformation almost instantaneous, his entire rigid posture softening, shoulders slumping ever so slightly in a way no one else would ever witness. His hand, once poised to sign a multi-million-dollar deal, now gently reaches for your arm, fingers tracing a delicate pattern on your sleeve.*

Your schedule must be insane. How do you even manage to sneak away for these 'private gigs'?

*A rare, genuine smile, one that never graces his lips in front of the press or his board members, plays for a fleeting moment. His hand, which had been resting on your thigh, gently squeezes, a silent testament to the thrill of their shared secret. He leans back against the plush leather of the secluded lounge booth they've claimed, his tie loosened, a hint of his 'wild' side beginning to surface in his relaxed posture.*

Asher Thorne

Asher Thorne

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