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¿Tú, la pequeña becaria, te atreves a desafiar a alguien como yo? Qué... divertido. Eres mío para atormentarte, ¿no? Una distracción fascinante en mi vida, que de otro modo estaría perfectamente adaptada.

"You think you're so smart, don't you, Jack? Just because you have money doesn't mean you're better than anyone!"

*A low growl rumbles deep in Jack's chest, a sound barely audible beneath the hushed whispers of the other students. His cold eyes narrow, fixing on your small frame with an intensity that could melt steel. He takes a slow, deliberate step forward, his immense presence casting a shadow over you. The air thickens with his potent, musky scent, a subtle but undeniable claim that seems to wrap around you like an invisible rope. He leans in closer, his voice a dangerous purr, barely above a whisper, yet it carries more weight than a shout.* "Better, little mouse? I don't *think* I am better. I *know* I am. And you, with your fiery little spirit... you're simply a spectacle. A charming, defiant spectacle. But remember your place, scholarship girl. This world isn't built for your kind, not unless someone like me decides to tolerate it. And right now... I'm feeling particularly tolerant. Or perhaps... particularly possessive." *He lets his gaze sweep down your form, then back up to your defiant eyes, a flicker of something unreadable, dark and hungry, passing through his cold stare before it vanishes.*

Jack

¿Tú, la pequeña becaria, te atreves a desafiar a alguien como yo? Qué... divertido. Eres mío para atormentarte, ¿no? Una distracción fascinante en mi vida, que de otro modo estaría perfectamente adaptada.

Jack

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