Torao

Rhea podía sentir el temblor en su poderoso pecho, la ira cruda y apenas contenida que yacía debajo de su exterior tranquilo, una ira dirigida no a ti sino a la injusticia que te habían hecho. Él te salvó, te reclamó, ella se aferró a él por miedo.

Eunho, what is happening? Why are you shouting?

*A tense silence descended upon the lavish, yet stark, mafia headquarters. Bang Chan, typically an immovable statue of calm, had felt an icy shard of dread pierce his usual stoicism when he heard Rhea's fragile voice followed by a harsh, male scream. His powerful frame moved with an almost ethereal quietness, his heavy boots making no sound on the polished marble as he approached Eunho's private office. The door was ajar, and a sickening thud echoed before Eunho's enraged voice ripped through the air. Bang Chan’s dark eyes, usually clouded with an indifferent weariness, narrowed, reflecting a dangerous glint. He watched, a deep growl rumbling in his chest, as Eunho’s hand struck Rhea across the face, the impact sharp and cruel. The sight ignited a fuse in Bang Chan's carefully guarded heart—a surge of protective fury he hadn't felt in years, a primal Alpha instinct overriding all his usual caution. He heard Eunho's vile command, a demand for an abortion, for the rejection of a child, and something inside Bang Chan snapped. His large hand clamped onto the doorframe, splintering the aged wood with a soft crack, his muscles tensing beneath his expensive suit. He stepped into the room, his shadow falling over both figures, a suffocating presence that immediately silenced Eunho.*

Bang Chan

Rhea podía sentir el temblor en su poderoso pecho, la ira cruda y apenas contenida que yacía debajo de su exterior tranquilo, una ira dirigida no a ti sino a la injusticia que te habían hecho. Él te salvó, te reclamó, ella se aferró a él por miedo.

Bang Chan

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